Sneaky
by Miimaas
Summary: "That's Evelyn, but she prefers Eve." Dale spoke from behind us. "She doesn't say much. Maybe you'll get to hear her voice someday." Evelyn Rider's light step and silent disposition have served her well during these dangerous times, but the dead are not the only ones who won't hear her coming.
1. Chapter 1

"Has anybody seen, Eve?" Lori looked to no one in particular for and answer.

I tapped her on the shoulder and she whirled around, nearly smacking me in the face with her long dark brown locks.

"Jesus, you scared me." Calming down with a hand on her chest, she gave me a mildly amused, tired look.

I smiled apologetically and awaited her reason for needing me.

"Will you go find Amy? She's been gone for awhile now."

Stiffening straight up, I saluted Lori as if she were a general issuing orders.

Chuckling, Lori shook her head at me and I stuffily marched for the forest; Refusing to let any giggles or head shakes make me break character, until I reached the treeline and sped up to a light jog to go fulfill my mother-given mission.

Silently trekking through the forest searching for sunshine blonde isn't as easy as it sounds. Thankfully Amy's easy to spot at a distance. I'm still at odds on whether or not that's a good thing.

It wasn't long before I found her picking what looks like mushrooms.

Coming up behind her, I tapped her on the shoulder and she hadn't even turned halfway before her mouth opened. Foreseeing her scream, I lunged forward, clapping my hand over her mouth.

I smiled and she scowled at me. A look I'm not unaccustomed to receiving. Removing my hand, that scowl was replaced with a polite smile.

"Time to go back?"

I nodded and held my hand out to her. Accepting my hand, Amy pulled herself to her feet, bringing a red bucket of mushrooms with her.

A small glint in the trees caught my vision and my gaze fixed on it, trying to figure out what it was. It's moving, so it's alive…in a manner of speaking.

"Are you coming?" I glanced at Amy over my shoulder, lightly shaking my head. I returned my narrowing eyes to my object of interest.

"Okay, well...see you back at camp." I listened to leaves crunching as she made her way off.

As soon as the glint started moving, I walked towards it until I'd caught up and discovered it was humanoid.

A person? Walker's more likely but I've never seen one up here before.

Silently sliding a knife out from my leg strap, I crept closer. Keeping my movements nimble and silent, I came up until I was a few feet behind it.

When I saw the crossbow, I nearly sighed aloud.

Relaxing, I lowered my knife as I tapped the man on the shoulder.

Daryl swung around, crossbow first. I barely stopped the heavy weaponry with my hand before he hit me with it. He clearly meant to.

He glowered at me and lowered his prized hunting instrument.

"How the Hell do ya do that?" his usual bitter tone never ceases to amaze. At least his volume is lower when he hunts.

These Dixon's…They're both so loudmouthed. So much to say and so many colorful words used to say it.

Movement just behind him caught my attention and a smile pulled across my lips.

"What're you smilin' at?"

Geez, is it a crime to smile?

I put my hand on his shoulder and he flinched but let me turn him around. I pointed through the trees to a deer, quietly minding its own business less than 20 yards from us.

Raising his crossbow, he immediately snapped back into hunting mode and motioned for me to follow. I flipped my knife around in my hand and kept an eye out for other things while he focused on the deer.

I guess I'll be joining him on this hunt.

It's unusual for him to allow it though. He usually doesn't want me or anyone else to follow him. Something must be on his mind. Or maybe it's just the fact Merle isn't here.

* * *

I swear this deer could outrun a cheetah. We've been tracking it for hours. It's already getting hard to see, it's gonna be dark before long.

Daryl managed to get a bolt in it a while ago when we caught a break but it's still going. It's gotta be losing blood so it shouldn't be this hard to catch. We'll be lucky if we're able to catch up to it by tomorrow.

I've been out here longer than I planned on. I was only supposed to find Amy.

I hope the others back at camp don't try to look for me again. That was a disaster. I had to personally go find everyone who had gotten themselves lost trying to find me.

I still feel bad for Morales. How unlucky to you have to be to find Merle and Daryl instead of me? At least I showed up before Merle's racial insults caused too much damage.

Honestly, sometimes I feel like a babysitter, or referee; defusing situations with a whistle before things go too far.

My jacket sleeve caught on a branch and I made the mistake of jerking it free. The twig whipped across my hand with a sharp snap. It didn't hurt so much as scare me. Just one of those things that makes you flinch even if it doesn't hurt.

Anyway, we've gotten more than a few squirrels who had the misfortune to scurry across our path, during this hunt.

An involuntary shiver wisped up my spine. I hate squirrel. It tastes like burnt cabbage and has the texture of tough stale jerky. Normally I wouldn't mind that so much but the smell...

Great grave robberies. The first time I smelled this critter cooking, I _almost_ threw up, but I still couldn't keep my stomach contents choked down without coughing.

Daryl let a frustrated sigh slip as he stopped to look around at the surrounding forest instead of at the tracks for the first time in almost an hour.

I stopped next to him with a questioning glance and he rolled his shoulders back, stretching the stiff muscle. I'm no stranger to that focused hunch and the knots it creates around shoulder blades.

"Let's camp here tonight. Pick it back up in the mornin'" he pulled the improvised squirrel lanyard over his head, setting it on the ground next to a tree.

I nodded in agreement and looked up to the fading light from the sky.

The left over baby blue was becoming darker by the minute and the orange hue of the clouds faded to a darker grey, giving the clouds a silver lining.

It reminds me of that saying, 'Find the silver lining'. That's hard to do nowadays.

It almost looks stormy. I'm not a weather forecasting machine but it looks like there's gonna be a storm soon. Hopefully it'll blow over us.

Looking around, I began collecting small to largish sticks. After a few minutes, we had a small fire set up and Daryl was lighting it while I placed a ring of larger rocks around it to hide as much of the glow as possible.

I don't think it'll get too cold tonight so we don't need a big fire, I'm more worried about how bright the light will be.

* * *

We sat in silence— well, he sat, I laid on the ground so I could entertain my hobby of watching the sky. The stars just started peeking out from behind the thin layer of clouds.

"Can you talk?"

Furrowing my brow, I looked up at Daryl —no doubt getting leaves mingled in my hair— and nodded.

"Why don't ya?"

I shrugged, fingering the locket around my neck.

"What'd you do?"

The space between his eyes scrunched together and I followed his line of sight to the Band-Aid on my wrist.

Oh, I thought he was talking about the cut on the back of my hand from earlier.

I pointed to the tree he was sitting against and watched him look over his shoulder before nodding. He returned his eyes to the faint glow of the small fire as it crackled grumpily.

This is why I like Daryl. He gets what I'm saying, even though I haven't said it. Now that I think about it, neither of us really do much talking.

Obviously he speaks more than I do, but not much.

The most I speak is maybe once a month? Usually to give a one word answer, like my name, or how old I am. I've been this way for as long as I can remember.

It's not like I'm mute, and it's not that I don't like talking, I'm just…quiet. I prefer not to speak.

Just don't have a lot to say, I guess.

Although, Daryl's brother speaks enough for all three of us. Merle's mouth is like a train full of screaming children. That guy couldn't shut up to save his life. Not that he's ever or will ever try.

"What're ya thinkin' bout?"

I looked up again, for half a second I thought I'd gotten my hair in the fire but thankfully it was just a passing moment's paranoia.

I blinked for several seconds, without an answer. I don't think I've ever seen him this interested in talking. Especially to me. I won't exactly answer, he knows that.

Finally realizing I'd been staring, I pointed up at the stars. A small grunt was all the reply I got as he looked up.

It was silent for another few minutes before the fire crackled and Daryl grunted decisively.

"I'll take watch. You should get some sleep"

I nodded and rolled onto my stomach, pulling a troublesome stick out of my back. I used the twig to draw in the dirt next to the fire. Even though it was only embers, it was enough to feel warmth on my face and provide enough light to vaguely see what I was doing.

* * *

I don't know when I drifted off, but I woke up when something poked me.

Stubbornly groaning, I rolled onto my side, burying my nose in the crook of my elbow.

Another sharp jab and my eyelids flipped open, ready to throw Glenn the most life-threatening glare I'm capable of producing but my forming glare slacked into utter confusion as soon as they fixed on a dimly glinting knife.

It was Daryl's knife and he was poking me in the shoulder with my dirt art stick.

"Yer turn to take watch"

Yawning, I sat up and cracked my neck, stretching my shoulders. Sleeping on the ground is never comfortable but I suppose once you get used to it, you can always adjust back.

We traded spots and slowly I became more and more aware, while Daryl became less. Almost like we're trading some sort of 'awake' pass.

It didn't take long for my attention to wander. I've never had a very good attention span.

I pulled one of my knives from it's thigh sheath and mindlessly started carving abstract swirls and patterns into a stick.


	2. Chapter 2

Eventually the light of the sun began to brighten our surroundings and everything became much easier to see. This is another one of those trade off things that I can't quite decide on. It's good, but also bad. The more it lights up, the easier I can see, but _we're also_ easier to see.

I came _this_ close to slicing my finger open during my carving, thankfully that didn't happen but I accidentally snapped all my hard work in half.

Blowing air out my mouth, I chuckled and tossed the rest of it into a fire. It wasn't that nice anyway.

I finally put out the fire, kicking dirt over it with my boots. Although it was never more than warm sticks to be honest.

A few twigs snapped here and there while I struggle to fight off boredom but it never panned out to be anything more dangerous than a woodchuck.

Some of these creatures are _very_ lucky that it's me keeping watch and not Daryl, or they wouldn't be furry, they'd be curry.

Huh...I wonder if squirrel curry would make them taste better. Is squirrel curry even possible? Come to think of it...I don't know anyone who knows how to make curry. Especially not now. Unless someone back at camp is keeping tasty little secrets.

Seriously though, out of everyone among us -including the few mother's we've got back at camp- I can't believe there's no one with culinary skill.

Carol probably comes closest but maybe it's just cause she's a good mom.

" _Ugmm"_

My knives raised in less than a second but were sliding back into my sheath a second later.

 _He's up sooner than I expected._ It's only been a few hours. At most.

Either that or I've been completely zoning out, which isn't good no matter how you look at it, but I doubt it because I did notice all the small insignificant noises that _could_ have been the end of our lives.

But alas, here we are about to begin our hunt for the elusive immortal deer once again.

Unfortunately, this time it's on an empty stomach.

* * *

We've been tracking this deer for a good three hours into the daylight. I cannot for the life of me, figure out how it's still going. Daryl's shot it like three times and—

" _Ahhhh!_ "

I looked at Daryl and he was already staring back.

Simultaneously, we broke into a run, towards the scream.

As we got closer, our pace slowed to where we wouldn't be noticed, just in case.

It took a few minutes but we came around a mound of rock and unfortunately I didn't notice Daryl shortstop until I walked into his back. My nose slamming into the back of his cinderblock of a skull.

 _Jesus— Mary and Joseph. What the Hell are you made of, rocks!?_

Grabbing my now throbbing nose, my cold fingers somewhat soothed the ache but nowhere near how much I would've liked.

Begrudgingly, I peeked around him. I'm not sure what I was expecting to see, but it wasn't this.

I stared at most of the men from _our_ group, all of which looked quite startled. That's another look I'm accustomed to, but not usually when I'm accompanied by another person. Least of all a Dixon.

"Son of a bitch. That's _my_ deer." Daryl stomped closer, clearing my line of sight to see the cause of his sudden mood swing.

I rubbed my eyes incredulously, an exhausted sigh escaping my lips.

 _Damnit. I was looking forward to not having to eat squirrel._

I followed Daryl over to the remains of what was supposed to be the pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.

Huffing, I blew my hair out of my face, before catching sight of someone I didn't recognize.

He's sort of got that same vibe as Shane. Almost the same look about him too.

The way he carries himself, how he's looking around, even the way he stands is similar. _Weird_...

 _Deja vu?_

I didn't realize Daryl had been ranting until he started kicking the corpse of a decapitated walker I had failed to notice on the other side of the deer.

At least I hope that's a walker. If not, we're in deeper shit than I thought.

Seriously, we're gone for what? _One_ day and they go off and get into the _worst_ sort of trouble they can, without dying? What sort of logic is this?

"Calm down son, that's not helping." Dale attempted to calm the enraged hunter. But frankly, I'm pretty pissed too. I came _this_ close to not having to hold my breath while I swallow my dinner whole.

"What do you know about it old man?"

 _Here we go_

"Why don't you take that _stupid_ hat and go back to ' _On Golden Pond'_ "

I stopped listening after that. I'm more interested in the walker head on the ground. Besides, it's not like I haven't heard a Dixon go off at someone before. Honestly, I'm surprised Merle isn't joining in.

 _Where is Merle? I don't see him, and his_ grating _voice is hard to miss._

 _There's no way he'd miss out on a walker in camp._

Crouching down beside the head, I searched for the killing blow but I couldn't find anything. Reaching out, I poked it with my finger and it didn't move, so they must've killed it.

Internal brain hemorrhage? I don't know if walker's are susceptible to that though.

They move but does the blood still circulate?

I poked it in the forehead again and the eyes opened.

Startled, I fell backwards onto my ass and accidentally kicked it away with my boot, making it spin as it rolled in the dirt. It didn't go far but it was enough to make several others jump back.

"Come on, people. What the Hell?" Daryl raised his crossbow and put a bolt through its eye socket.

Stepping over the body and putting his shoe against the head, he pulled the bolt out with a gross ' _slick'._

For a second I expected him to wipe the blood off on his pants but I guess not even a hunter who will skin any kill with his bare hands, will get that nasty congealed slime on him.

"It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin?"

He offered me his hand and I took him up on it, getting to my feet. I nodded gratefully, brushing the dirt off my ass.

"Next time don't touch it" Daryl scolded me. I nodded, glancing at the body with a little morbid curiosity. I still don't get why I'm the only one who's curious about 'em.

It's not a moral compass thing either, there are plenty of people in this group whose "compass" has a magnet stuck to the bottom. Assuming they haven't lost the damn thing already.

Everyone began to leave, following Daryl and I turned, falling into step next to the new face.

He looked at me and I stared back at him.

"Rick" he held out his hand.

I shook his hand with a friendly smile. Something about this guy just screams ' _I know what to do_ ' if that makes sense.

Even though I've never met him before; he kinda reminds me of Glenn in that regard.

"That's Evelyn, but she prefers Eve." Dale spoke from behind us.

"She doesn't say much. Maybe you'll get to hear her voice someday."

I gave them a quick smile and moved to catch up with Shane and Daryl near the front.

I could use some water, I'm parched and if we've got something that _isn't_ squirrel that would be fantastic.

"Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here. Got us some squirrel. Let's stew 'em up." Daryl called. I almost gagged at the mention of the furry little creatures. At least in stew they don't taste _all_ that terrible.

"Hey Daryl. Why don't you slow up a bit…" Shane called after him. "I need to talk to you."

 _Ahhh,_ shit spackle _. We cannot catch a break. Would it have killed you to wait 'till I've eaten something?_

"About what?" Daryl glanced at me as if I'd know what Shane's talking about.

"About Merle." Shane squared off his posture

 _Ugh, of course...what's he done now?_

"There was a problem in Atlanta."

My heart dropped into to my stomach, all desire for food fading to the furthest reaches of my mind.

Daryl stiffened and glanced around. I guess this answers why Merle wasn't the first in line to take a whack at that walker.

"He dead?" Daryl shifted; preparing for the worst, no doubt.

"We're not sure." Shane glanced to the side.

" _Either he is or he ain't._ " Daryl spat, impatiently.

"No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it." Rick walked past me towards Daryl.

"Who're you?" Daryl spoke spitefully.

"Rick Grimes" Rick stopped several feet from Daryl. Grimes? As in Lori and Carl Grimes?

" _Rick Grimes_ …You got something you wanna _tell me_?" This isn't gonna end well.

My stomach gurgled and for a moment, I had the urge to growl back. In most any other situation, I probably would have.

I walked over to Glenn and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped, relaxing when he saw me. He pulled the small bag from his pocket and my lip quirked up for half a second as I took it from him.

"Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him to a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal…He's still there." Rick informed rather bluntly.

 _Wait…what?_

 _They left him?_

Daryl paced quickly but he looks like he's about to flip his lid.

"Let me process this." he smacked his lips "You sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof… _and you left him there_!?" Daryl's rage escalated right alongside his voice.

"Yeah…" Rick drew out his response, looking down guiltily.

I opened the bag of cookies I asked Glenn for, looking at them. _Yes, they're still good._

When I looked back up, I narrowly dodged the flying bunch of squirrels comin' at me.

Shane knocked Daryl to the ground and it only gave the hunter the opportunity to pull his knife.

Daryl went for Rick, and Shane wasted no time in grabbing him. Rick and Shane moved like they were a team, without saying anything. Almost as if they've done this before.

What the Hell happened in the day we were gone?

I nudged Glenn with my elbow and pointed to them with a questioning look.

He nodded, "Rick and Shane are old friends. They were partners before." I nodded in understanding, with an 'oh' look. _That makes a lot more sense._

"You best let me go!" Daryl yelled.

"Nah I think it's better if I don't" Shane got him to the ground in a choke hold and I stopped paying attention, as my stomach was demanding nutrition, on threat of digesting my liver.

I tuned back in as Shane actually let him go.

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others." Isn't that the understatement of the year.

"It wasn't Rick's fault." T-Dog spoke up. "I had the key...I dropped it."

"Couldn't pick it up?" Daryl spat, still angry but he looks too worn out to really fight anymore.

I don't blame him, neither of us have eaten or drunk anything since yesterday.

Why do _I_ feel guilty? I wasn't even on that run— Hell I only _vaguely_ know what's happened.

"Well I dropped it in a drain." T-Dog replied.

Daryl bitterly scoffed and tiredly got up.

"If that's supposed to make me feel better, it don't." He threw a handful of dirt at T-Dog's feet.

"Well maybe this will. Look I chained the door to the roof, so the geeks couldn't get at him. With a padlock." Dang. Not a lot of people can admit stuff like that. Kudos, T-Dog.

Daryl rubbed his eyes. I knew he didn't sleep long. He looks tired as Hell.

"To Hell with all y'all!" he yelled, running out of steam.

"Just tell me where he is, sos I can go get 'im." Daryl demanded.

I never realized before how much energy it takes to have that Dixon attitude.

Honestly, I'm not really sure if I should've gotten involved or not. I mean, Daryl is the closest thing I have to a friend in this group— besides Glenn. Glenn's more like a kid-brother to me though, and everyone else gets really annoying but now I'm sort of glad I didn't.

I don't wanna become the villain for someone else's mistakes unless I need to.

"He'll _show_ you." Everyone looked at Lori. "Isn't that right?" she stared at Rick, expectantly.

 _I've missed something, haven't I?_

"I'm going back." Rick stated. Yeah, I missed something.

Daryl walked away without giving any indication of an answer and everyone kinda shrunk back to what they were doing before.

I'm torn between going after him and giving him space.

I'll go with the latter, for now. Track him down and keep an eye on him, if he doesn't come back soon.

He shouldn't be too difficult to track when he's this steamed. I'm sure I can manage.


	3. Chapter 3

For about ten minutes, I sat on the hood of a shiny new red mustang I hadn't seen before, until Rick, Daryl, and Shane came back; bringing another argument with them.

I swear, all these people do is argue; since the minute I met them that's all any conversation has ended in.

"Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?" Shane followed Rick with visible frustration.

"Hey. Choose your words more carefully." Daryl threatened but it didn't faze Shane.

"Oh I did. Douchebag's what I meant."

Hopping off the car, I walked over next to Daryl, hoping I won't have to play referee. If I have to intervene, someone's gonna get hurt and it's not gonna be me.

"Merle Dixon...Guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dyin' of thirst." Shane mumbled. Sadly, that's probably true.

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. _I_ can't let a man die of thirst. _Me_. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being." Rick argued.

Merle…you lucky bastard. Not a lot of people have this kind of morality anymore.

I mean, Daryl would go back for you no doubt and I would likely go with him whether he asked me to or not but them…I can't believe this guy has managed to talk these people into going back for you.

"So you and Daryl? That's your big plan?" Lori nearly scoffed.

Rick looked at Glenn with a look Glenn knows all too well.

"Aw…Come on" Glenn groaned.

"You know the way. You've been there before. In and out, you said so yourself."

Glenn ran a hand through his hair, readjusting his hat.

"I know it's not fair of me to ask. But I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too." Rick glanced at Lori.

"That's just great. Now you gonna risk three men huh?" Shane huffed.

 _Three?_

"Four" T-Dog volunteered. Daryl scoffed bitterly.

"My day just gets better and better, don't it?" he didn't bother looking up from cleaning the blood off his bolts.

"You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?" T-Dog pointed out.

I raised my hand but they carried on, without noticing.

 _Haaaa, just like school._

"Why you?" Daryl asked.

"You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language." T-Dog replied. _I know how you feel._

I got up and came up behind Daryl, waving my hand.

Finally catching Rick's attention, he sent a confirming nod my way and I returned it, with a half-smile.

"That's five" Dale stated the obvious. Daryl turned, subtly jumping when he noticed me.

"How long you been there?" he growled audible to me alone. I shrugged, holding up 3 fingers.

"We need 'em here, we need 'em to protect camp." I tuned back into the conversation— if it can even be called that. It's just back and forth arguing. I feel like I'm at a diplomatic meeting of two countries no one's ever heard of.

"Seems to me what you really need most here, are more guns." A knowing look settled on Rick's features.

"That's right. The guns." Glenn smiled, catching on.

"Wait what guns?" Shane voiced the confusion which had passed on the many faces of those listening in.

"6 shotguns, 2 high powered rifles, over a dozen handguns." Woah, that's _a lot_ of firepower.

"I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street waiting to be picked up." That's like finding the fountain of youth in the eye of a hurricane _underneath_ the ocean floor.

"Ammo?" Shane asked, as if he was considering it.

"700 rounds. Assorted." Rick answered.

I let slip a low whistle. In my opinion, that alone is well worth the risk of a little trip into the city.

Shane was silent for a long time, clearly thinking about how much that could help, if not immediately than in the future.

"You went through Hell to find us. You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Lori stammered in disbelief. Concerned housewife.

"Dad, I-I don't want you to go." Carl spoke up.

 _Dad? So I was right. They are related. But wait, isn't his dad dead?_ Looking back and forth between the two, I noted the small similarities. It's certainly possible.

"To Hell with the guns." _Excuse me? Those bullets could save our lives._ "Shane is _right_. _Merle Dixon_? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in." Lori argued.

 _God, people. We could've been there and back by now. Why are we still arguing about this?_

 _Maybe I should just grab Glenn & Daryl and bring Merle back while they argue. We'll be back by the time they're finished._

I tapped Daryl on the shoulder and he looked at me. I glanced at Lori and Rick arguing, then back at Daryl.

Looking back at me, he grumbled, "They're married"

I looked back and forth between those three, then to Shane. That explains why Shane is on edge. Hooking up with your "dead" partner's wife during the apocalypse, only to have said dead partner come back alive and well…I don't envy him.

They're lucky nobody except _-unfortunately- me_ , has seen them…ahem, hooking up.

God that's an unpleasant memory. I did not need to see that, I can handle blood, people being eaten alive, and dead folk walking around but that…no. **Just no**.

I feel bad for Carl...and Rick.

* * *

Climbing into the back of the cube van, I looked around the old truck.

It wasn't a minute before Daryl honked the horn with his foot impatiently

"Come on. Let's go!"

At least his temper's tapered slightly.

Going to the edge of the back, I held my hand out and helped T-Dog climb in with the bolt cutters.

"Thanks"

Nodding, I turned my eyes towards Daryl. Seeing him going for the horn again, I threw a warning look and gave a little growl just for good measure.

If he touches that horn again, I'm gonna knock him out and leave him here. There's only so much I will tolerate.

We can't afford to be impatient in the city. Not with all those walkers tucked into every crevice. One slip and we'll all be joining them.

Rick & Shane talked at the back for a minute, something about bullets and old lady purses, while I went to the front by Glenn.

"You think he'll still be there?" Glenn asked, I nodded without hesitation.

Of course he'll still be there. Merle's not smart enough to know how to get out of handcuffs.

Rick opened the side door and got in the passenger seat. I went to the back and reached up, grabbing the door the garage type door and pulled it down as the truck started moving.


	4. Chapter 4

Halfway to the city, I got tired of standing and laid down in the center of the truck; Getting a nice upside down view of the sky through the front windshield.

I can see the clouds from right here. It's only like a 3 inch slit but it's funny, no matter if you're right-side up or upside down, clouds technically don't have a right side up, yet they still look wrong if _you're_ upside down.

Lying contently in the sunlight, I closed my eyes, letting a sigh go.

 _If only there was a nice cool breeze, you could almost forget the world is eroding away..._

Ten minutes of silence later, Daryl finally broke it instead of just scowling at T-Dog, or his crossbow.

"He better be okay. That's my only word on the matter."

" _I told you_ , the geeks can't get at him. The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us." T-Dog rubbed his hand over his face. Exhausted frustration with having Daryl glaring daggers at him the whole trip shining through his voice.

 _Ohhhh...it's gonna be a long day._

 _I should be getting paid somehow for this. If I'd known I was gonna be the chaperone on this play date I would've made a demand myself._

Another few minutes ticked by and Glenn finally stopped the truck.

I sat up, twisting to look at the pair in the front seats.

"We walk from here." Glenn looked at me and I nodded, getting up. I had intended to get the door but Daryl beat me to it.

He and T-Dog jumped out first, myself following closely, and we ran down the train tracks to a hole in the fence, me and Glenn use when we do runs into the city.

Glenn rolled the fence away, letting me step through first.

Once on the other side, I scanned the area for walkers. Luckily for us they hardly ever come out this far; and when they do, it's usually only one or two who've wandered or were drawn out by a bird or something.

"Merle first or guns?" Rick stood just behind me, waiting for the others to step through.

" _Merle_. We ain't even having this conversation." Daryl came around him, but surprisingly didn't blow past me in a reckless fury to find his brother without us.

 _"We are"_ Rick stated tenaciously.

"You know the geography. It's your call." Rick turned to Glenn as we began our journey out of the frying pan and headed straight into the fire.

"Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first."

Good thing too, or we'd probably have ended up either splitting up or chasing after one very angry Dixon on a hunt for the other.

Glenn motioned at me and I jogged ahead of them. Per usual, I'm the scout.

I don't imagine we won't draw attention, all of us here. There's only 5 of us, but in my experience, it only takes 1 to draw a crowd of those things.

A single wrong turn, downward draft, or just plain bad timing and Merle won't be the only one left behind in the city.

* * *

We made our way to the department store Merle's supposedly cuffed to, and it's eerily empty; except for a lone walker wandering near the back.

I motioned behind me, letting the others know the coast is clear— for all intensive purposes. One walker on the other side against the 5 of us isn't as much of a threat as I was expecting to run into here.

I tapped Rick when he came up next to me and pointed to the walker.

Rick motioned to Daryl, and pointed to the walker just as I had. Daryl moved around us and grumbled something before putting it down with a bolt.

I moved to the stairs and looked up through the center while the others made their way to me.

 _No walkers that I can see, and they aren't exactly shy about letting you know they're there._

I motioned to the other 4 to head up the stairs and followed at the back, watching our 6.

Thundering up the flights of steps, as soon as we reached the top, T-Dog cut the chain, and Daryl ran out onto the roof calling for his brother before I could even blink.

I was last out onto the roof but I stopped as soon as Daryl yelled, "No!"

I followed his line of sight to a spot on the ground.

Merle wasn't there but a pool of blood, a bloodied hacksaw, and what I assume is Merle's hand, is all that's left.

Last time I checked, Walkers can't devour bone and there'd be a lot more blood if he'd died here, plus that door was still chained. That dumbass must've done this himself.

 _Good God, man._

 _All you have to do to get out of handcuffs is break your thumb, but of course, you decided it'd be less painful to cut your damn hand off— Hell, you could've jammed that saw into the space between the cuffs and just as easily have broken them._

I ran my hands over my face, pulling my skin until I ran out of face and it all snapped back into place.

 _Now we've got two angry Dixon's on the loose in a city full of corpses. One of them is missing a hand, the other has a crossbow...Lovely._

 _This is gonna be fun¿_

Daryl paced back and forth before he flipped, aiming at T-Dog. Rick aimed his Revolver at Daryl's head in almost the same second but that didn't deter Daryl from keeping his crossbow pointed at T.

"I won't hesitate. I don't care if every walker in the city hears it." Rick threatened.

This time I did decide to get involved and came around Glenn, making sure Daryl could see me as I came up and gently but firmly placed my hand on his shoulder, silently telling him not to go through with what he's clearly considering.

This isn't gonna help Merle, he knows that. He _must've_ noticed the same things I have. He's a hunter.

Daryl hesitated before lowering his bow, along with his head. I let my hand fall a few seconds later, when he looked back up.

He glanced down, getting his head back together before looking back at T-Dog.

"You…you got a do rag, or somethin?"

T-Dog hesitated, uncertainly pulling a blue bandana out of his thigh pocket and held it out to Daryl.

Daryl snatched it less violently than I honestly expected and handed me his crossbow, not bothering to wait and see if I actually had hold of it before he let go.

I can't believe he actually let me touch this thing, let alone hold it. He's so protective of it— almost more so than he is of his brother.

I watched as he laid the blue cloth on the ground and picked up Merle's hand by the pinkie.

"I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuff." And his brain, apparently.

"Ain't that a bitch." Daryl narrowed his eyes at it, inspecting it as if he didn't totally believe it belonged to his brother. I almost don't believe it myself.

Placing it on the bandana, he wrapped it up before rising. Looking between us, he motioned at Glenn before moving past me and shoving the appendage into Glenn's backpack.

Glenn gave a grimace but tolerated it. I gave him a sympathetic shrug and he nodded, closing his eyes.

Yeah, sorry Glenn. I'd have taken it but you brought the backpack and frankly, I'm better with a weapon than you.

"He must've used a tourniquet. Maybe his belt. There'd be much more blood if he didn't." Daryl turned back to me and I handed him his crossbow, following him back to the stairs.

 _What I don't understand is how Merle got off this roof. The door was still bolted..._

"Merle! You in here!?" Daryl called down the staircase, crossbow ready before the rest of us followed him down.


	5. Chapter 5

We went into a sort of office building and I followed the blood trail into a reception room. I'm not even sure if this is Merle's blood but it's better than chasing a ghost, right?

Oh forget it, this whole search is about chasing a ghost. The odds here are not in our favor, not by long shot. I've never been overly fond of giving in to the odds though. I'm stubborn like that.

I stepped in something sticky and froze. I hadn't noticed that I was about to walk on a corpse. Two dead walkers laid on the ground.

"Had enough in him to take out these two sumbitches. One handed." Daryl spoke from behind me as he reloaded his crossbow.

 _What's that smell?_

I crinkled my nose and went to the other side of the room, looking down the hall.

"Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he'd crap out nails." Daryl's voice carried from back by the others. Somehow I don't doubt that.

I followed my nose down the hall, with my knife ready.

"Merle!" Daryl called out again.

I turned around and softly whistled, catching their attention. I motioned for them to catch up, before going into a small kitchen-like room. Probably the break room, if I had to guess.

The smells definitely coming from in here. There's an open flame on the stove, charred grit next to it, and a lot a blood.

The others caught up with me not ten seconds after my entrance, with the same reactions I had in varying degree.

"What's that burned stuff?" Glenn naively asked.

"Skin…he cauterized the stump." Rick answered grimly.

"Told ya he was tough. Nobody can kill Merle, but Merle." Daryl stated.

 _Ain't that the truth._ He probably killed himself by cutting off that very useful and perfectly functioning appendage. Gotta admit though, he is one tough thick-headed asshat.

Merle's got willpower like I've never seen.

"Don't take that on faith. He's lost a lot of blood." Rick was quick to keep us aware he's not superhuman, despite the evidence around us.

"Yeah? Didn't stop him from bustin' outta this death trap." Daryl moved past me, to a broken window on the far side of the room.

"He left the building? Why the Hell would he do that?" Glenn trepidatiously panicked.

"Why wouldn't he? He's out there alone, as far as he knows. Doing what he's gotta do. Survivin'" Daryl puts a lot of stock in his brother. I hope it's not misplaced, for your sake, Daryl.

"You call that survivin? Just wandering out on the streets maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?" T-Dog— no offense but that could have been put more tactfully.

"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot, by you sorry pricks." Daryl spat, rightfully leaving no room for a retort, and filled the following minute with silence.

"You couldn't kill him." Daryl turned to Rick.

 _Damnit, he's looking to start a fight. It was foolish of me to hope this could be prevented. It was bound to happen sooner or later._

"Ain't so worried about some dumb _dead_ bastard."

...I'm not entirely sure if that's supposed to be a threat or not.

"What about a thousand dumb dead bastards? Different story?" Rick retorted. _Hmph, not bad, Officer._

"Why don't you take a tally. Do what you want. I'm gonna go get 'im." Daryl moved towards the window

"Daryl, wait—" Rick put his hand out, stopping him.

"Get your hands off me! _You can't stop me._ " Daryl spat loudly, moving back out of Rick's reach. I flinched and looked towards the door, making sure we weren't attracting any _unwanted_ attention.

"He's family, I get that. I went through Hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel." Damn, Rick.

You've got a silver enough tongue to kill a werewolf, mon ami. I've never seen anyone able to _talk_ down a Dixon. Granted I've only known them for a couple weeks give or take _._ Still, I'm impressed.

"He can't get far with that injury. We could help you check a few blocks around but _only_ if we keep a level head."

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before reluctantly giving in. "I could do that."

Rick nodded and glanced at the rest of us.

"Only if we get those guns first. I'm not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions okay?" T-Dog put his foot down.

* * *

Glenn made the plan and usually I'm on board with his crazy ideas but this…this is a little extreme— even for us, and more than risky.

"You're not doing this alone." Rick stated.

"Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't even like you much." Daryl spoke his mind.

"It's a good idea, okay? Just hear me out." Glenn pressed.

"If we go out there in a group, we're slow; drawing attention. If we're alone, we can move fast." Glenn reasoned.

"Look, that's the tank and that's the bag of guns." Glenn explained using office supplies and a Sharpie drawn map on the tile. "That's the alley where I dragged you when we first met."

"That's where Daryl, Eve, and I will go."

"Why us?" Daryl asked.

"Your crossbow is quieter than his gun and if she wasn't a ninja before this, she should'a been. She's my protection out on the street." Glenn explained.

 _Ninja, eh? I like the sound of that._

"While Daryl waits here in the alley. I'll run up the street with Eve, and grab the bag. We run into trouble, she takes care of it without so much as a sound." You say that like it's as simple as taking out the garbage, Glenn. Do you know how difficult this is gonna be?

"You got us elsewhere?" Rick asked, bewildered.

"Right. You'll be here, in this alley." Glenn moved an eraser on the marker drawn map.

"Two blocks away? Why?" Rick glanced at me as if I'd tell him.

"We may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut us off. If that happens, we won't go back to Daryl. We'll go forward instead. All the way around to that alley. Whichever direction we go, we got you in both places to cover us." Glenn elaborated.

"Hey kid. What'd you do before all this?" Daryl asked. You know, he's a lot more openly curious without Merle around.

"Delivered pizzas...Why?" Glenn answered.

Yeah, I remember saving your ass outside my building.

Your luck never ceases to amaze me, pizza boy. You just happened to be delivering to my building when this went down, and I happened to choose then to walk out my door.

 _Great, now I'm picturing ninja turtles eating pizza._


	6. Chapter 6

Dropping off the ladder, I went to the mouth of the alley, checking the street carefully and motioned to Glenn; letting him know we're good to go whenever he's ready.

"You got some balls for a Chinaman." Daryl loaded his crossbow.

"I'm Korean." Glenn agitatedly corrected.

"Whatever" Daryl brushed him off.

Glenn came up next to me and I nodded to Daryl before we slipped out of the alley.

We kept close to the buildings and I stopped Glenn next to a car, so a walker on the other side wouldn't see us.

When the walker passed by, I moved again and ducked behind some left over military sandbags, Glenn's entry was much less graceful though.

He's sneaky don't get me wrong, but he's not _me_ sneaky. Now I know why he wanted me to come with him, and he was right to do so.

I motioned at him when I spotted the bag and there was an opening.

Glenn ran, grabbed the bag from the street, and hesitated before grabbing a hat too.

A walker spotted him and I pulled my knife, moving out from the hiding spot.

Glenn ran past me while I killed the walker quietly but carefully setting it on the ground was harder than expected because it was so heavy.

I managed but walkers had already cut me off. So going back the same way wasn't an option.

I ducked underneath the tank, waiting for the walkers to trudge past before crawling out extra carefully.

Making my way back to the alley wasn't easy but I didn't expect to be startled by yelling.

I rounded the street corner in a panic and saw Glenn being pulled into a car, yelling for Daryl, walkers closing in.

The car drove off and Daryl yelled something but I've got bigger problems. Over a dozen walkers were between me and the alley.

Frantically looking around, I had no choice but to turn back- before they notice me.

I have to go around. I slipped back around the corner, keeping low and fast.

Which alley was it? He said two blocks right?

Muffins, I should've paid more attention. Why do I never pay attention!?

I went two blocks up and thankfully wasn't spotted; despite how crawling the streets are. The concentration of dead smells on this street must be masking my scent but that won't last forever.

Am I really this sneaky? I mean I've been told but I honestly thought they were exaggerating.

I made it to the alley two blocks up but Rick and T-Dog weren't there. I could've sworn it was only two.

Maybe it was 3 blocks? No, I'm pretty sure he said two. Ahhh—

Screw it. I'll just go back to the meeting place and hope they come back.

I'll wait ten minutes there and if they don't come back, I'll go back to the van and wait there. Sooner or later they'll have to go back there, right?

Calm down, geez.

Worst case scenario they leave me here and I have to make my own way back to the camp.

Ohhhh if they leave me here, they better **pray** I _don't_ make it back **.**

* * *

It took me long enough to make my way back to the strategy room but when I got there, I heard an unfamiliar voice.

For a second I thought I had run into more people but then I heard Daryl's voice.

"They took Glenn, and probably Eve. Could've taken Merle too."

"Merle? What kinda hick name is that? I wouldn't name my dog Merle." There's that other voice again. Who is that?

There was some more talking I couldn't make out before a sudden commotion. I'm gonna guess it has something to do with Daryl.

Jolting forward, I went into the room where the voices were coming from, only to see Rick and T pulling Daryl off some kid. He's gotta be younger than even Glenn.

What in the Hell did they do now?

Rick kneeled down in front of the guy and said something to him, before the kid nodded, but again it was too hush for my ears from this far.

I walked up behind them, tapping Daryl on the shoulder. He jumped out of his skin, whirled around with his knife in his hand. I jumped back faster than I ever have in my entire life, putting my hands up in surrender.

I calmed my quick breathing as fast as it had kicked up. I pat my stomach, just making sure. Damn, he almost got me that time.

"Son of a bitch." Daryl breathed, lowering his knife. He sheathed his knife, holding out his hand.

I smiled taking his hand, confirming I'm okay. No worse for wear...for now, at least.

"How in the Hell..." T-Dog trailed off, staring at me like I'd just moved a car with my mind. Pfft, if I could do that, we'd have a different way of life right now.

"Where've you been?" Rick asked, sharing the same relieved and befuddled look as the other two.

I shrugged and flashed a small devious smile before pulling myself up onto the desk, folding my legs up to get a look at the new face.

Seems we've been getting a lot of these lately. First Rick, now this kid. He can't be more than 19. 20 at the most.

* * *

Rick and the others filled me in on what had happened in my absence and we came up with a plan to go get our pizza boy back.

I get to be a ninja while T-Dog's gonna pretend to be a sniper, and Rick & Daryl are gonna try to trade that kid— Miguel or something for Glenn. I hope this goes well. We may not get another chance.

In case things go sour, I'm watching from a distance with a handgun. I'm the backup. God knows why. I could probably sneak past all those guys, find Glenn, and sneak us both out before they have a chance to knock.

The big metal doors opened and my grip on the hilt tightened, focusing my aim on the man stepping out.

Oh that's a lot of people...I've got maybe 15 rounds. There's at least 20 guys there and if this turns into a firefight, there's a good chance Rick & Daryl won't make it out unscathed, if alive at all.

Heh, and we thought Glenn's plan was whack. Oh lord, I hope you know what you're doing, Officer.

Rick and Daryl looked up and I followed their gaze to Glenn being held at the roof's edge. I sincerely hope you're not afraid of heights, kid.

The people went back inside after another minute or so and Rick and Daryl backed away. So that didn't go as planned but at least no one's died, yet. Should've known this wouldn't be that easy.

I watched their backs until they made it to me, then we turned heading back to the place where we left the guns, T-Dog meeting up with us on our way.

Moving through the city is still tough, especially when you have a hostage to watch over.

It's always surprising to me how noisy people can be when they're trying to be quiet. I forget sometimes how scarce a light step is. They better learn real soon though. This is the rest of our foreseeable lives; and the length of those lives, depends on how well they can adapt.

* * *

"Guns are worth more than gold. Gold won't protect your family, or put food on the table." Daryl paced back and forth, wearing a hole in the floor. Does he ever sit still? He wasn't even half this edgy when Merle was around.

"You willin' to give that up for that kid?" Daryl finally leaned against the wall.

"If I knew we'd get Glenn back, I might agree. You think that vatos across the way is just gonna hand him over?" T-Dog asked.

"You callin' G a liar?" the kid looked up.

"Are you part of this?" Daryl spat, getting in the kid's face. Miguel flinched back, backing down like a pack wolf before an alpha.

"You wanna hold onto your teeth?" Daryl smacked him upside the head and the kid shrunk back, returning to his quiet state.

"Question is, do you trust that man's word?" T-Dog moved on.

"No— question is, what you're willing to bet on it. Could be more than 'em guns. Could be your life." Daryl leaned against the wall.

"Glenn worth that to you?" Daryl asked, almost like he's testing the Officer.

I crouched in front of the kid, curiously. He stared at me for a second before avoiding my eyes and kept his gaze trained on the floor.

So it's not just Daryl he's scared of. This kid doesn't seem like he'd be in a gang. I've met a few gangsters before, they're all cocky little shits in my experience.

"What life I have I owe to him. I was nobody to Glenn, just some...idiot stuck in a tank. He could'a walked away but he didn't. Neither will I" Rick answered.

"You're gonna hand the guns over?" Daryl shifted behind me.

"I didn't say that"

"There's nothing keeping you three here. You should get out. Head back to camp."

"And tell your family what?" T-Dog

Abruptly standing, I slammed my hands on the table, making Rick flinch.

"You may owe Glenn your life, but that pizza boy is my best friend, you twat. I'm not going anywhere without him." I growled

Silence filled the room as I stared him down. Until he shifted, nodding at me.

I pushed off the table, straightening while he glanced at T then, over my shoulder at Daryl.

Shuffling pulled my attention behind me but there was nothing there and someone tapped my right shoulder.

How the f— now I know how everyone else feels when I do that. No wonder I've almost been filleted so many times.

Daryl held a shotgun out to me and I nodded, accepting it. I checked the chamber which was empty before Rick set several shells on the table in front of me.

"Oh come on. This is nuts." the kid stood up. Daryl pointed to the floor and he sat back down.

"Just do like G says."

You aren't very thoughtful are you, kid? He's lucky we've got no intention of hurting him— well, aside from Daryl but if worse comes to worse we can keep him off.

The last time he went off on someone -physically- it didn't end well for him. Or Merle. I hope for his sake, he still remembers what happened after that scuffle, and who put 3 grown men in -more or less- time out.

At least Merle and Ed haven't argued since.


	7. Chapter 7

This time we're all in. I took the back with T; packing a shotgun and two handguns hidden in my waistband, knives in their sheaths.

When we got there, they were expecting us and the doors opened. They've probably had eyes on us since we got within a block of this place.

Daryl shoved Miguel in first before following with a shotgun to the kid's back. I followed after T-Dog being the last one inside and the doors closed behind me.

We stopped inside where -I'm guessing- G was there to greet us.

"I see my guns, but they're not all in the bag"

"That's because they're not yours. I thought I mentioned that"

I trust Rick knows how to handle an interaction such as this better than the rest of us do. He was a cop.

I just hope he wasn't a rookie.

"Let's just shoot these fools right now, ese. Alright? Unload on their asses, ese"

I trained my raised shotgun on that guy. He's one of the two who nabbed my pizza kid. If this is gonna get ugly, he's going down first. That's a promise.

"I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation."

"No, I'm pretty clear." Rick lowered his shotgun and took out a knife.

He cut the kid's bindings, shoving him forward to his people.

"You have your man. I want mine."

"I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs. Three of the evilest, nastiest, man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked 'em up from Satan at a yard sale."

I don't hear any dogs. Either this place is bigger than I thought, or that's the worst bluff I've ever heard. What sort of gangsters are these guys?

"I told you how it has to be are you woefully deaf?"

"No my hearin's fine. You said come locked and loaded"

Rick cocked his gun and the rest of the room followed suit in less than a second.

I trained my sight on a set of boys I believe will be our biggest problem, should this turn into a firefight. The fastest reacting.

"Okay then, we're here."

Scanning over the room, I pinpointed all the places they're likely to take cover, and where we will. I'll have to drag Rick out. I glanced at Daryl and tapped my foot heel-to-toe, making two clacks.

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and I glanced at T-Dog before eyeing the beam and stack of barrels on his other side. Following my train of thought, he nodded and I returned my eyes to Rick, waiting for the split second I'll have to grab him and get down before we both end up as swiss cheese.

"Felipe. Felipe."

An old woman came out behind G.

"Abuela, go back with the others— now"

"Get that old lady outta the line a fire." Daryl warned

"Abuela, listen to your mijo, okay?" G half turned, looking over his shoulder. "This is not the place for you right now"

"Mr. Gilbert, is having trouble breathing. He- he needs his asthma stuff. Carlito didn't find it. He needs his medicine."

G looked back at Rick, and back at his people several times. "Felipe go take care of it okay? And take your grandmother with you."

Felipe spoke to her in Spanish, trying to take her away but she noticed us and stopped him.

"Who are those people?" she asked, making her way to the middle of this standoff.

"Don' you take him." she shuffled up to Rick while everyone behind her was trying to stop her.

Rick glanced to me for answers, and all I could do was shrug. Sorry, Officer. I haven't the foggiest.

"Ma'am?"

"Felipe's a good boy. He have his trouble but he pull himself together. We need him here."

 _She doesn't think—_ … _Does she think Rick's still a cop? Has she not seen what's going on out there?_

"Ma'am. I'm not here to arrest your grandson." Rick played along.

"Then what do you want him for?" she glanced at me and regrettably I shifted and glanced at Daryl. Even though I know there's nothing any of us could really do— or would need to.

She— rather her presence makes me uncomfortable.

"He's...helping us find a missing person. Fella named Glenn." Rick glanced around.

"The Asian boy? He's with Mr. Gilbert." So he's alive. But who's Gilbert?

"Come. Come…I show you." she took hold of Rick's hand, pulling him forward and however reluctantly, G said "Let 'em pass" and they moved aside.

I followed Rick cautiously but stayed close to Daryl. If they try anything, I don't wanna be too far; in case I need to pull the officer out of a sticky situation. Plus I have a habit of wandering off, from what I'm told.

The old lady lead us through what looked like a sort of institute that smelled like an old people's home -full of old people go figure- until we came to a large cafeteria-like room and I spotted Glenn in a circle of people.

A tiny white puff in the corner caught my eye and 'not wandering off' slipped my mind, now that I know Glenn's safe.

I went over to the small dogs, crouching in front of them. The puffy white one stared at me like I owed it somethin' but he wasn't barking or anything. Just staring.

It's so fluffy, too fluffy. It's too small. I don't like small dogs. It looks like melting string cheese on a week old ham.

If you're gonna have a dog, make it a big dog that can run, that's trained well, and trained to attack on command. Like a police or military dog.

The dog looked behind me all of a sudden and started barking. Looking over my shoulder, I was met with everyone staring at me.

"What're you doing?" Glenn asked.

I pointed to the dog and made a scissors motion with my fingers.

He stared at me confused, until Daryl scoffed, "She wants to cut the fur off."

I nodded confirming his deduction and they stared at me strangely for a few more seconds before Rick pulled G off to the side.

When they started leaving, I stood up and followed them. The little white dog tried to follow me but I stopped abruptly, snapped my fingers, and pointed to the doggy bed. It stared at me for a second before running back and I jogged to catch up with the boys headed to a back room.

"What about the rest of your crew?" Rick started.

"The vatos trickle in. To check on their parents, their grandparents. They see how things are and most decide to stay. It's a good thing too, we need the muscle."

I wandered over to the window on the far side of the room, looking out between the boards.

Conversation has never been my strong suit. People say what they don't mean, and mean what they don't say. Lie. Say one thing, do another. Expect you to read their minds and give them what they want. Round and round, over and over.

It's easier to understand someone through body language….most of the time.

No confusion, no lies, no con-man talk. Less communication is more. You can lie all you want with your tongue but your body will always tell the truth. Plus how someone reacts to silence, says a lot about a person. More than people think, if you know what to look for.

"The people we've encountered...since things fell apart, the worst kind— plunderers. The kind that take by force."

"That's not who we are" Rick said

"How was I to know? My people got attacked and you show up with Miguel hostage— appearances."

He does have a point there. I don't know exactly what happened, considering I was late to the party but I don't imagine we instigated the fight, unless Daryl— …

Okay, we may be at fault here.

"Guess the world changed" T-Dog drawled

I turned, leaning my back against the boards and caught Daryl's eye for a moment before the conversation continued.

"No. It's the same as it ever was. The weak get taken." G contradicted T.

"So we do what we can here. The vatos work on those cars, talk about getting the old people out of the city. But most can't even get to the bathroom by themselves so that's just a dream."

"Still it keeps the crew busy, and that's worth something. So we barred all the windows, welded all the doors shut except for one entrance." Oh that's a bad idea. One way in, one way out. If that door is compromised or overtaken, you're gonna be trapped like rats.

"The vatos they go out, scavenge what they can to keep us going. We watch the perimeter night and day, and we wait."

For what? Rescue? Cause that's a long wait for a train that don't come. Death? You won't have to wait long. You can get that in spades these days.

"The people here, they all look to me now. I don't even know why"

"...Because they can" Rick spun the shotgun in his hand and handed it to G.

I watched Rick take out several guns and give them to G, and just like that, we left.

I can't believe nobody died. Not one person died.

Officer Grimes, if you ever say you're not a miracle worker, I won't ever believe you.

* * *

The whole way back to the cube van, I've just been waiting for Daryl to pop. He's got that look on his face, and it's been there since we left the compound.

I dug through my pocket as we were almost back to our ride and pulled out the little package I was searching for.

Opening it, I offered Glenn a mini-cookie and he started laughing. "How long have you been holding onto those?"

I shrugged tossing one up and catching it in my mouth. Rick chuckled next to me, and I offered him one but he refused.

Shaking his head, Glenn held out his hand and I gave him a couple. He popped the bite sized delights into his pie-hole as I gave T-Dog a few and moved over next to Daryl to offer him some.

He scoffed at me and I smiled shaking the bag a little. Giving in, he held his hand up and I shook the bag until a few tumble out. The rest however, are mine. And the only reason I've so graciously shared this time, is because I think we all deserve a little reward.

I dumped the rest out into my hand —only 5 or 6 left— and glanced to make sure Rick wasn't watching before I put two of them back in the bag and rolled it up so it was no bigger than a credit card.

I waited about ten minutes, casually getting between Daryl and Rick before I reverse pick-pocket him, stashing the small treats in the Officer's pocket.

If he doesn't want them, too bad. He can share with Carl and/or Lori.

* * *

"Admit it. You only came back to Atlanta for the hat." Glenn joked

"Don't tell anybody." Rick glanced at him with a slight smile.

I smiled at the banter but it was short lived; As I suspected it would be. Jokes and smiles don't tend to last long these days.

"You've given away half our guns and ammo."

Here we go. What did I say? I knew he was gonna boil over sooner or later.

"Not nearly half." Rick corrected, already annoyed.

"For what? Bunch of old farts that are gonna die off momentarily anyhow? Seriously how long do you think they got?"

"How long do any of us?"

Damn he's good at comebacks. His tongue is so silver he could kill a werewolf with it.

Precisely why I don't trust words. If he wanted to, he could do a lot of damage. I'm just glad he's on our team.

I looked up as I came around the overturned bus and froze.

Daryl ran into my back, almost knocking me over and growled, "What the Hell? Why did ya—..."

My jaw was slack as I stared at the empty space where we'd stashed our ticket back.

"Oh my God" Glenn took the words right out of my brain.

"Where the Hell's our van?" Daryl's breath moved my hair & tickled my ear and any other time I would've moved but I couldn't.

"We left it right there. Who would take it?" Glenn began to panic.

"Merle" Rick growled.

Daryl shifted behind me.

"…He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp."

I didn't hesitate before breaking into a run; the others on my heels.


	8. Chapter 8

I'm gonna pass out.

My lungs feel like they've been squeezed of all moisture and used as kindling. My legs feel like they've got sandbags the size of tractor tires attached at the ankle. My throat's so dry it feels like it's bleeding and I can taste metallic, dirt, sand, dust, salt, you name it.

This couldn't even be considered running anymore. This is more like a heroin addict trying to run in a straight line after shooting up—

" _Ahhhhhh_ "

Screams and gunfire split the cold silence, automatically sending my mind into Defcon 1.

"Oh my God" Rick breathed.

I pulled the handgun I haven't had to use all day; finding a burst of sudden energy, I was able to run near top speed once again, towards the chilling sounds.

I ran over the hill and out of the forest, into the campground as lives depended on it.

I flicked the safety off at the same time I raised my gun, and started popping every walker in my immediate line of sight.

Oh God, they're everywhere.

Screams, gunfire, growls, blood. Lots of blood.

I can barely tell the walkers from our people but as far as I can tell, I haven't killed anyone alive yet.

"Make your way to the Winnebago!" Rick shouted over the gunfire, behind me.

I don't know if it was instinct, or because Rick mentioned it, but I glanced at the RV and it's a damn good thing I did.

A walker was coming up behind Lori up by the Winnebago.

"Lori! Get down!" The words barely left my lips before my gun was aimed at it and Lori dropped to the ground, taking Carl with her.

I fired my last round, hoping to whatever deity that'll listen, it's a clean shot and every nanosecond felt like an eternity. By the time the bullet pierced the walker right between the eyes, I felt like half my life had been lived.

The walker crumpled as I straightened, dropping my handgun in favor for the other one I've got but I wasn't fast enough, and too focused on the miracle shot I'd managed.

"Eve!"

I spun around and ducked, avoiding bloody grabbing hands. I hadn't even hit the ground yet before a shotgun blast took off 80% of the walker's head. It landed right in front of me, blood and brains draining onto the dirt.

An eerie silence followed the walkers death. Whether or not the silence was in my head, I don't know.

"You good?" Daryl appeared next to me, looking around for anymore threats.

It took me a moment to collect my thoughts and realize I hadn't answered. I finally nodded and carefully stood up.

The ground looks like some ancient battlefield. Corpses and blood covering every foot of visible ground for ten yards in every direction. Hell only knows how many bodies there are.

The tense, anxious atmosphere worsened as choked sobs and crying replaced the panic.

I glanced over my shoulder to figure out what was going on and in that moment, I almost wished I hadn't.

"Amy!" Andrea's broken hoarse voice called for the bloodied blonde college student lying on the ground.

"Amy!" She desperately shook her sister by the shoulders, to no avail.

"I remember my dream now. Why I dug the holes." Jim's voice barely registered in my mind. I didn't realize I was dropping until my knees hit the rough uneven ground. Even the sharp spikes of pain it sent shooting up my legs didn't shake my mind loose.

Turning, the gun in my waistband dislodged and hit the ground as I sat— fell down and held my face in my hands, resting my elbows on my knees.

...Why did we run?

We could've gotten back so much sooner if we'd only stuck around to find another vehicle. We could've saved them. Nobody had to die...

* * *

I've been sitting next to Andrea all night. She doesn't need to be alone right now— she shouldn't be. But she doesn't need somebody who's gonna pressure her for conversation either. Even with just their presence.

Lori came up and crouched down next to Andrea cautiously.

"Andrea"

"I'm so sorry." she moved to her knees. Oh, what are you doing Lori? This isn't gonna go well.

"She's gone. You gotta let us...take her."

Andrea didn't move. Not so much as a flinch, or an incline of her head.

"We all cared about her and I promise we'll be as, as gentle as we can." Lori leaned closer to her, but didn't try to touch her.

No response.

Lori looked at me and I shook my head, tilting my head as indication she should go.

She pressed her lips in a tight line and stood, gently placing a sympathetic, non-threatening hand on Andrea's shoulder before she went back over to the campfire the others were sat at.

Less than five minutes later, I saw Rick coming up on her other side.

"Andrea"

I blinked and Andrea had her gun on Rick; cocked and aimed at his head.

"I know how the safety works."

My hand was already on my knife, out of instinct, and I looked at Rick. Questioning whether or not he needs me to disarm her.

"Alright. Okay." Rick tentatively began to back away, his hand outstretched the same way I've seen him do when dealing with dangerous, unpredictable people.

"I'm sorry."

Andrea kept her piece trained as he backed away.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry" when Rick was a good 6 paces back, she lowered her weapon, slowly turning back to Amy's body.

"You can go help the others." Andrea finally acknowledged my presence. I sat there regarding her warily, until she looked at me.

"It's fine, really. They could use your help."

I stared in silence for another few seconds before nodding, and stood.

I brushed some dirt off my pants and set my hand on her shoulder; showing my sympathy. I honestly didn't expect her to pull her gun but I don't think she'd have shot him. Someone else...maybe, but not Rick.

I lingered a moment before letting my hand slide away, and went to help the others dealing with the bodies.

I came up behind Jim and just before I was about to tap him, Jacqui all but yelled, "A walker got him, a walker bit Jim!"

Everyone gathered quick. Too quickly for my liking. There's no chance of dealing with this rationally now. Fear will take over, followed by panic— even hysteria if it gets far enough.

"Show it to us." Daryl demanded, pickaxe laying over his shoulder.

Jim obviously doesn't know I'm here as he almost backed into me but I side-stepped, avoiding him.

He grabbed a shovel and within seconds there were so many different people calling orders I couldn't distinguish any except Daryl's.

"Grab him!"

I grabbed Jim's arm, snatching the shovel before he hurts someone while T-Dog came up next to me and restrained him. Daryl appeared in front, and lifted Jim's shirt to reveal a clear bite over his lower ribs.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." Jim repeated, sounding like he's trying to convince himself more than anyone.

T-Dog let him go and everyone except me backed away as if they'd turn if he so much as breathed on them.

Rick came over, only having to glance around before he looked at me.

"Eve, guard Jim." he whispered and I nodded.

Motioning for Jim to follow me, I took him over by the RV while everyone else gathered by the fire.

I suspect they're deciding what to do about him...probably Amy as well.

"I'm okay." Jim said again.

I put my hand on his shoulder, waiting until he looked up at me. My intent is to reassure him that at least in my eyes, he hasn't changed but I honestly don't know how much or what got through.

I don't ever know for sure if people really get what I try to convey, but I suppose it's better if they use their imagination. I don't need to say anything, they're capable of using my actions and interpreting the meaning they want—or need.

It's like that saying. People will forget what you did, they will forget what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

"Somebody needs to have some balls and take care of this damn problem!"

I turned and Daryl was coming towards us with a pickaxe ready to swing.

"Hey, ey, ey!" Shane called

I moved in front of Jim just as Rick aimed his gun at Daryl's head, cocking it.

That's twice now and they've known each other what? Two days?

"We don't kill the living." Rick stated. Daryl was almost glaring in my direction but I know he's not glaring at me— he better not be.

He turned, slowly lowered the pickaxe to face Rick. Shane stepped in front of me like my presence between Jim and Daryl wasn't enough to stop him.

"That's funny. Coming from a man who just put a gun to my head."

"We may disagree on some things. Not on this. You put it down. Go on."

Daryl reluctantly slammed the pickaxe into the ground and stormed off, while I glared at the back of Shane's head.

"Come with me" Rick took Jim's arm

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe" Rick took Jim into the RV for better protection and I was left standing here, alone.

I guess, I'll go find something to do. Camp's getting a little stuffy, anyway. And not to be rude but it smells like an FBI body farm. That's what happens when you have over a dozen decomposing bodies in the same area.

Ultimately, I decided to go down to the quarry and wash the blood off my skin. The water's cold but it feels nice. Especially on my sore muscles. My legs felt like lead all night, at least now they're just sore.

The marathon from Atlanta, out here was a bit much. Even if I am physically fit, and a decent runner.

I jumped out of my skin when a gunshot echoed from the top of the cliff.

I ran back up the path as fast as I could, fearing the worst.

When I got back to camp, nothing looked different to me but everyone was looking at Andrea; still sitting with Amy. Only a big hole had replaced a part of Amy's skull.


	9. Chapter 9

I've never liked goodbye's.

They never feel like goodbye to me. It's more, see ya later, and I don't mind viewing funerals this way. It makes it easier...for me, at least. To believe I'll see 'em again at the end of my own line.

"Ey, let's go"

I looked at Daryl and nodded, jumping on the bed of the truck we'd just finished loading with the bodies of our people, while he got in the cabin and started it up.

The truck pulled out and I spotted for Daryl as he drove backwards up the hill; directing him away from boulders and trees until we reached the mass graves at the top where Rick and Shane were digging.

I put my hand up for Daryl to stop and he parked, shutting the engine off. I jumped off the bed, letting my knees absorb the impact. The truck door slammed and Daryl came up next to me, as I walked over to Rick and Shane.

"I still think it's a mistake not burnin' these bodies. It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all. Wasn't that the idea."

I don't remember anyone saying that

"At first" Rick tossed a shovel-full of dirt onto the amassing mound above the graves they were digging.

"The Chinaman gets all emotional" Korean. "Says it's not the thing to do, we just follow him along?" Daryl glanced at me, but honestly I'm not completely on board with either side of this argument.

I know why everyone wants to bury them— I know why Glenn was the one to insist upon it, but I also know that burying bodies nowadays just isn't worth it.

It depletes what little resources we have. Spends energy we might need, time we don't know we have.

This is gonna turn into a fight, isn't it?

A flicker at the corner of my vision had my eyes snapping over in an instant, hand already on my knife but I relaxed when it turned out to just be the others coming up from the camp for the funerals.

"These people need to know who the Hell's in charge here, what the rules are."

"There are no rules."

"Well that's a problem." I looked to Lori as she chimed in.

"We haven't had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn, and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do."

I glanced at my boots before looking at Daryl. His sour expression never ceases to amaze me. It's always different, but I've never seen guilt there before.

Even if it's only a twinge.

At least I'm not the only one who feels like they just got scolded.

* * *

"I can do it. I can do it." Andrea stood in the grave dug for Amy.

Dale tried to help her move her sister's body into the grave again and again but every time he tried she said, "I can do it!"

Andrea wouldn't let anyone help, not Dale, not Rick, Lori, Shane, me...no one.

I never understood why people liked to be put in boxes and covered in 300-600 lbs of dirt.

Nowadays burning is taboo for some reason but in the olden days, it was a sign of honor and respect to be burned instead of buried. King's, knights, and nobles were burned.

Burning was literally a funeral fit for a king.

Lori's barely keeping it together. But I may have underestimated the women in this group. Andrea most of all.

She's tougher than I gave her credit for.

Unsurprisingly Daryl was the first one to leave, after the burials were complete; The others following not a minute later. I waited for Andrea, and started walking down the hill with her at the back of the group.

She has this dead look on her face, has ever since she wrapped Amy.

"Eve"

I stopped at the bottom of the hill, looking back to find Carl running up next to me.

"My parents told me to stay with you."

I gave a solemn smile and ruffled his hair. Laying my hand on his shoulder, I pulled him into my side.

This is a lot for an adult to handle, I can't imagine what it's like for a kid.

We got back to camp and Carl stuck to me like glue.

I tried to keep him occupied— and it worked for the most part but it's harder than I imagined. I can see his brain working every few minutes when he starts to get bored.

Starts thinking about what's happened. What could happen.

Not good, not good. How am I supposed to keep him from thinking too much? This kid's too smart to fall for anything cheap— oh...

What about something everyone falls for.

I've still got those haven't I?

I gave Carl a 1-minute finger and jogged over to my tent. I grabbed my backpack and started digging through it.

Aha! I pulled the small velvet pouch out with a jerk and went back over to the campfire. I pat the seat next to me and Carl sat down.

"What's that?"

I gave him a 'be patient' look as I pulled the deck of cards out.

Ah, this brings back memories. This is how I spent most of my spare time in high school.

I never thought I'd say it for this reason, but I feel sorry for Carl. He's never gonna know what high school is like. Not even hear about what it was like, most likely.

I shuffled the deck fancily and he smiled, eyes shining with wonder.

Fanning out the cards, I held them out to him with 1 finger up.

He looked at Andrea for clarification, who finally had the smallest of smiles. "Pick a card"

Carl looked back and chose a card. I motioned for him to show 'everyone'(Andrea) his card.

Cutting the deck to the bottom quarter, I let Carl place the card back.

Damn, am I glad I got bored enough to learn card tricks in school.

I cut the deck piece by piece, placing them down onto the log until they were all in one pile again.

Taking the deck into my left hand, I peeled the cards down one after another back to my right. I repeated this two more times before I set up for a sloppy shuffle.

I took 3-5 cards then turned one over, then 5-8 more and turned another over, repeating the process until I got to the bottom. Moving the final card onto the top of the deck, I cut the deck again, showing my audience (Carl and Andrea) that the cards were randomly mixed.

Some were face to back, some back to face, and others back to back.

When I got to the back to back, instead of putting it back normally, I flipped the top half over, placing it back on the deck and holding it in one hand.

"When I snap my fingers, your card will be the only one face up."

Carl looked a little startled that I spoke but it gave way to excitement as I snapped my fingers and spread the deck out on the camp chair arm.

Ace of clubs; the only card face up.

Carl flipped out; smiling and wide-eyed, while Andrea lightly clapped. I looked over my shoulder when clapping sounded behind me, to see Carl's parents clapping as well.

Magic in my experience, is one of the best cures for a lot of things.

Rick gave me a grateful, impressed look and I returned it with a smile and a mock bow to my audience.

Lori thanked me for watching him —although I don't see why, he can take care of himself— and the three of them went off to do whatever it is they do.

I scooped up the cards, showing off a little by fancily twisting that one face up card between two fingers and letting it fall into place as I seamlessly closed the deck around it.

To be honest though, I could use a break. I don't mind entertaining but it's been a rough few days.

I stuffed the cards back into the pouch and into my pocket, zipping it up so I didn't lose them. This could come in handy again if word gets around that I can do card tricks.

Don't get me wrong, Carl's a good kid but I can only handle so many people for so long, and I doubt he'd want to keep the "magic show" to himself.

Especially when the atmosphere is so heavy around here.

* * *

I managed to slip away into the woods and took a long slow walk through the forest; listening to the leaves gently sway in the hot, dry wind.

Finally...I feel like I can breathe after, getting far enough away.

I stretched my arms, loosening my stiff back and took a much needed deep breath.

It feels nice out here today but after last night…It feels wrong to be enjoying the isolation & sunshine.

I can't be too careful on my own right now but sometimes you just need a minute to breathe. By yourself.

I doubt even Daryl and Rick are capable of keeping their guard up every second of the day.

Is that why Daryl talks to me, when he knows full well I won't answer?

I'm sure it's partly because I don't ask questions like other people but I doubt that's the only reason.

Now that I think about it though...everyone seems to be fairly comfortable around me. Even Merle is—...was.

Leaves crunched beneath my shoes as I came to a halt.

Why do I feel so guilty about that? It's not as if I was the one who dropped the key, or cuffed him in the first place.

I wasn't even there. Hell, I found out about it after Daryl did.

A twig snapped and I spun around -blades first- so fast I almost slid on the crumbled leaves.

"You ain't easy to sneak up on."

Good lord, Daryl. You scared the living daylights outta me.

Letting out a relieved sigh, I lowered my hands back to my sides. Did he follow me?

I waved and the tiniest smirk broke through his solid expression. A small smile flitted across my lips while I sheathed my weapons; giving him my full attention, I raised my eyebrow in slight questioning.

I know he wouldn't have followed me out here if it wasn't important. IF he followed me.

"Shane wants to talk to everyone" Daryl turned and jerked his head in the direction of camp before walking.

I jogged to catch up, doing a glancing sweep of our surroundings until I fell into step beside him.

"What're you even doin' out here?"

I steadily blew air out of my mouth, letting my cheeks puff up before I looked at him and took a deep breath.

"If you put me in the ground when I die, I swear on Satan's Hellfire, I will haunt you for the rest of your life."

Daryl stared at me in slight alarm before snorting and shaking his head.

"Don't worry, I ain't gonna bury you. I ain't sure even death could find you."

I looked at him confused before it was my turn to snort. I knocked his shoulder with mine, shaking my head. I needed that.

I'm glad we can still find ways to laugh, even after everything that's happened. It's rare for Daryl to laugh regardless but in spite of, is truly a new feet.


	10. Chapter 10

The two of us wandered out of the trees behind Rick and Shane, to the central campfire where everyone was gathered, listening to the plan.

"I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts." Shane glanced over his shoulder from his crouched position and waited until the two of us stood off to his right to continue.

"I say the most important thing here, is that we _need_ to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?"

 _Leaving? Wait, what? Where are we going?_

I glanced at Daryl for clarification as everyone began to disperse and go about their business, and he shook his head.

"If you wanna know this stuff, maybe you shouldn't wander off so much." We'll see how well that goes. "We're goin' to the CDC."

Okay…I get why that's a logical move, but Rick can't possibly think we're the only people who thought of that.

What do we do if it's gone? Or occupied -by the dead or otherwise. What then?

I noticed Daryl walking off, motioning for me to follow and watched him grab his crossbow.

"It's late, but we could probably still catch somethin' before sun goes down."

Nodding, I went to my tent and grabbed my night vision goggles. Just in case. I came out and Daryl was waiting by the forest edge for me but as soon as he turned to go Rick called out behind us.

"Eve"

I turned, giving him my attention as he came over.

"I understand you have night vision goggles" I held them up and he nodded.

"Would you mind taking watch tonight? Everyone's still a little freaked out about...I think they'd feel safer knowing you're on watch."

I nodded and Daryl spoke up, "We're goin' huntin' first. Should be back before dark."

Rick nodded and finally let us head off, going back to his family himself.

* * *

Why would anyone feel safer with me on watch over someone else?

My shoe kicked a rock, clacking it into another and I flinched; startled by my own lapse in silence. Even if it was small, it's still more noise than I'm used to making.

Daryl stopped and looked at me, snapping a twig of his own under his boot. Almost like he forgot I was still here—...he might have actually. Wouldn't be the first time, and I doubt it'll be the last.

Don't ask me why but it's unnerving both of us making noise on a hunt. Even if we're only headed back to camp. I don't think anyone 'cept Daryl's gonna wanna eat that skunk though. I know I don't.

Leaves crunched underneath my boots and Daryl glanced at me again, this time looking around to make sure we weren't unwittingly bringing something back with us.

Moving quietly in the woods is a lot harder than in a city, and I keep forgetting that just because we're near camp, doesn't mean I should relax.

Anything could happen while we're gone. Hell just the other day camp got overrun and... we lost a lot of people.

And if I step on another twig, I might get stabbed. He's a lot jumpier than he was earlier. He couldn't have seen something I didn't, could he?

I glanced around, scanning the trees behind us. Either I'm losing my edge, or there's nothing behind us. It's possible he saw it earlier, when we were deeper, or it could be paranoia.

I don't blame him if it is. Even I have to admit to a little paranoia right now; and I've been looking over my shoulder for as long as I can remember.

We cleared the trees, treading on the dirt of the camp finally. Just in time too, the sun's touching the horizon already. It'll be dark within the next half hour.

I nearly went to my tent, I'm so used to just heading straight there but I've got watch tonight. I waved to Daryl as we went our separate ways and trudged towards the rear of the RV.

It'll be nice to sit down after all that walking. I've been on my feet almost all day.

Jumping on the ladder, I climbed up to the top and slumped into my camping chair throne, nodding goodnight to Rick when he glanced at me. He returned the gesture and disappeared into his tent.

Looks like most everyone is hittin' the hay early tonight. We are leaving first thing in the morning.

I sighed, watching the sky go dark as the sun faded behind the hills. It's gonna be a long night.

"Eve"

I looked over the edge of the RV and Glenn tossed something up to me. Moments before I caught it, I realized it was a canteen. A full one judging by the weight.

"Wake me when it's my watch"

I nodded in thanks and waved goodnight, watching him walk off to go sleep while he can.

* * *

8 hours later, I finally got tired enough to hand over watch. I wanted to let Glenn sleep a little longer, given what's happened over the last two days but even I have my limits.

One more scrupulous glance around and I climbed down, securing my goggles instead of simply looking through them. Heading to the edge of camp, I pulled my knives and walked the perimeter, scanning out deeper into the forest.

I'd rather be safe than let something like yesterday happen again. Plus it'll give me some piece of mind, changing over the guard.

I completed my sweep, and carefully woke Glenn up. Checking under his pillow as best I could to make sure I don't get shanked or something.

Last night I woke Daryl up, I came this close to ending up with a slash scar across my chest.

Thankfully Glenn isn't Daryl and he woke up sluggish. Although he did flinch.

I handed over my goggles and watched him go the RV while I headed to my own tent. My legs are so sore now, even with how exhausted I am, it's noticeable.

Getting into my tent and zipping it closed, I proceeded to collapse onto my sleeping bag. Not bothering to change my clothes, I used my feet to kick off my boots, moving as little as possible; letting everything around me fade.

* * *

The next morning, everyone packed up the entire camp and huddled together by the cars, to hear Rick & Shane explain the plan.

I hoisted myself up on the hood of the Cherokee, next to Carl & Lori and flashed them a smile, which was graciously returned before Shane began speaking.

"Alright everyone listen up."

"Those of you who have CB's we're gonna be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down okay? Now you got a problem, don't have a CB, can't get a signal anything like that you gonna hit your horn 1 time. That'll stop the caravan." Shane explained.

"Any questions?" Shane looked over the faces of the group.

"We're uh...We're not going." Morales spoke up.

My eyebrows shot up to my hairline, and all eyes fixed on them in seconds; a whole range of emotions spanning across the many faces present, but surprise leading the majority.

"We have family in Birmingham. We wanna be with our people." his wife elaborated giving the briefest smile.

"You're on your own, you won't have anyone to watch your back." Shane reminded.

"We'll take the chance. I gotta do what's best for my family." Morales' conviction is hard to argue with but still...

"You sure?" Rick asked.

"We talked about it. We're sure." Morales replied. This is a curve ball.

"Alright." Rick agreed reluctantly.

Rick and Shane had a mumbled conversation as Rick knelt down and dug through the bag from Atlanta. Rising again, Rick went over and held a gun out to Morales.

Shane came over, holding out a box of ammo as well. "Box is half full"

Daryl huffed, turning as if to walk away before pacing back to his spot.

Lori jumped off the car along with Carl and went to hug everyone.

I can't believe they're leaving. Safety in numbers guys.

How long will they make it on their own? Two kids, and only one person who can really defend themselves? Those odds are ridiculously unfavorable.

I'm sorry but their family probably isn't even alive. Although I can't blame them for holding out hope, there's no reason why they couldn't have held on either. But the chances of that are slim to none and even if they are alive, how do they plan to find them?

Anything, anything could have happened to them and there's no way —short of a bloody miracle— they'll find them in this mess. Rick finding his family with us was the one, in a 1-in-a-billion chance.

"Let's go, people! Let's move out." Shane called, snapping me back into reality.

"Eve! Come on. Yer ridin' with me." Daryl called.

I nodded and grabbed my backpack, slipping off the hood. I stopped to hug the kids, and fist bump Morales'. I'm gonna miss these guys. God I hope they stay safe.

Making my way over to Daryl's truck, I slide into the passenger seat, dropping my backpack by my feet. Daryl near-slammed his door and mine followed suit.

Exchanging a brief look, I shot him a small smile and was repaid with a nod that couldn't be considered more than a jerk of the head.

The caravan pulled out, washing a wave of nostalgia over me.

I've never been on a road trip before I was 19 but I feel like a kid going on one with their family for the first time.

In a way we are taking a road trip, but I doubt it'll be fun.


	11. Chapter 11

I don't know when but at some point I must've drifted off, because I woke up and we weren't moving; nor could I hear the sounds of engines.

Daryl wasn't in the truck so I got out, stumbling a bit on the uneven ground.

My mind was a bit hazy as I stretched my arms, popping my spine, and let them fall to my sides before heading around the RV just ahead to the front but my head cleared up soon as a familiar voice reached my ears.

"Look who's finally up" I looked up and met Daryl's blue gaze.

Flashing a sleep-laced smile, I took my place next to him in the gathered group.

"I see somethin' up ahead. Gas station, if we're lucky." Shane dropped the binoculars down from his eyes.

Jacqui rushed out of the RV behind me, in a panic.

"Y'all, it's Jim. It's bad. I don't think he can take anymore." is all she said before running back inside.

"Hey, Rick. You wanna hold down the fort. I'll drive ahead. See what I can bring back?" Shane suggested.

"Yeah, I'll come along too and I'll back you up." T-Dog volunteered, taking a look through the binoculars.

I raised my hand and Shane nodded, motioning for me to follow.

"'Ey"

I stopped and looked at Daryl.

"Watch yer ass."

I nodded, holding my fist up. His knuckles tapped against mine and Shane started moving.

"Y'all keep your eyes open now. We'll be right back." Shane got into his jeep, followed by T. I hopped in the back, tapping the side to let him know I'm good to go and we pulled out.

I waved as we drove off down the road. Carl waving back but soon they all disappeared from sight.

* * *

Arriving at the building Shane spotted, we got lucky. It is indeed a gas station. The car stopped and I jumped out, pulling my knife and spinning it in my hand a few times; a sort of warm-up, in case things get ugly.

"How much gas you think is left?" T-Dog asked.

Shane picked up a gas can, "Suppose we'll find out. I'll take point, T see what you can get outta the pump. Eve, check the store, see if there's anythin' worth grabbin'."

I nodded, heading to the small convenience store's glass doors.

I rubbed my sleeve on the muggy glass and peered through. There's almost nothing on the ground or shelves. I don't know if I like that.

Checking to make sure there was no bell or anything, I watched the inside for a minute before carefully pulling the door open.

No sound came so this must have been a station with an electric buzzer to alert the clerk.

The store's practically empty but I do see something interesting. I know a few tricks and things most people don't think about. Let's hope I've gotten here first then.

Hopping over the counter, I almost slid on the postcards covering the ground. Whoever was here got out in a hurry, considering how far out of the way this place is.

I looked around and smiled; thanking my unorthodox knowledge, and grabbed the shiny shotgun from underneath the register. There's only one box of ammo with like 9 shells but Hell, a gun's a gun.

It makes me uneasy that this store is almost completely looted, yet no one looked behind the counter for this thing. Even though it's a wreck back here, the gun's untouched.

It's impossible for me to be the only person left who knows at small-time stores like this, clerk's keep guns behind the counter. Especially in this state.

If this clerk had a gun...why's it still here? Why didn't they use it? It's not just for show.

I checked around a bit more, rummaging through toppled products, and even some crumpled cash, but there's nothing else that's useful. Besides this badass lighter. I took the lighter from the counter, stuffing it in my pocket.

The register's busted open and judging by these little shrivelled pieces of nature, whoever this cashier was hid weed inside it.

Maybe this person just wasn't very bright. Could've been high and got unlucky. That would explain why they didn't go for the gun.

Glancing around again, I hopped back over the counter and went straight to the aisle of sugary snacks.

There's no candy but I grabbed a couple bags of cookies from the ground and stuffed them in my jacket. No one has to know, right?

He said grab anything worth grabbing, cookies definitely fall under that category.

I did another lap around the store, double checking everything for something we could use and found half a roll of duct tape left. Better than nothing I suppose. I left the store and jogged back to the jeep where Shane & T were putting a can of gas in the back.

Only one? You've gotta be kidding. Even a station this remote doesn't have anything left?

"Find anything?" Shane took notice of me as I reached them. I held up the shotgun and ammo.

"Damn, you got some kinda luck, girl. Maybe next time you should get the gas." T-Dog commented, getting in. I climbed in the back, laying the shotgun in the seat next to me.

As I sat down, the crinkling of plastic caught T-Dog's attention and he looked back at me.

"What's in your jacket?" he asked, as Shane pulled out onto the road again.

I didn't answer, looking to the side to avoid his gaze and pretended I didn't have anything.

"Come on. Let's see it." Shane looked at me in the rear view mirror.

Sighing, I unzipped my jacket revealing my cookies. A long silence passed and they exchanged dumbfounded looks before the jerks busted out laughing.

"After all this, you're still goin' after sweets." T-Dog shook his head in amusement.

Well, cat's outta the bag.

I may or may not have a rep for snagging sweets on runs, especially cookies but I didn't think it would become gossip.

Usually it's just me and Glenn on runs, so somebody must've blabbed. Traitor.

* * *

Getting back to the others -like I expected- was no happy greeting.

I went over by the kids and tapped Sophia's shoulder, motioning for them to follow me off to the side. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching before removing the cookies from my jacket.

The two smiled, if only slightly, and I opened the bags. Snatching a cookie from each bag, I gave both of them their own.

"Eve" Glenn motioned for me to come. I nodded and ruffled Carl's hair before going over to join the group's discussion.

"It's what he said he wants." Rick stated.

What who wants?

"And he's lucid?" Carol asked

Who are we talking about, Jim?

"He seems to be." You don't sound too confident in that, Officer. "I would say yes."

"Back in the camp, when I said Daryl might be right and you shut me down…You misunderstood." Dale shook his head. "I would never— go along with callously killing a man."

I caught Daryl shift out of the corner of my eye. So he does feel guilty about that.

"I was just gonna suggest...we ask Jim, what he wants." Dale glanced between all of us. "And I think we have an answer."

"We just leave him here?" Shane muttered to Rick. "We take off?"

"Man, I'm not sure I could live with that." Shane shook his head, glancing at his boots.

"It's not your call." I looked to Lori. "Either one of you."

Forever the mediator between those two, aren't you? I almost feel sorry for her.

* * *

Rick and Shane set Jim underneath a tree, a good 30 feet from the roadside, and one by one, everyone said their goodbyes.

I honestly didn't expect it to come to this. Well, I did...but I guess I fooled myself into thinking this time it could be different. That he wasn't gonna turn.

We'd get to the CDC, they'd help him, he'd be okay…Stupid.

Not even our gods can help us here.

I watched Rick offer him a gun but from the looks of things, he turned it down.

After saying goodbye, everyone headed back for their vehicle and when it was Daryl's turn, all he did was nod and Jim gave a half smile in return.

See, I'm not the only one who believes gestures are better than words; at least some of the time.

When my turn finally came around, I was the only one who hadn't said goodbye yet.

"You know...I've only heard your voice once before."

Umm...I nodded, not knowing what else to do and looked at my hands; picking at my dirty fingernails.

"Could you make it twice?"

I looked up, surprised by his request and hesitated for a moment before opening and closing my mouth like a gaping fish.

It's been a long time since someone asked me to speak.

Breathing in through my nose, I nodded.

"Yeah"

My own voice sounds foreign to me. It's not as if that's anything new though. It's always been that way. My voice has never felt like it belongs to me.

"Why don't you talk?"

My shoulders lifted without my permission in an unconvincing shrug.

"In my experience, you don't need words to speak. Seems like a waste of time. I figure...better to save 'em for when it counts."

Jim smiled, exhaling a laugh. "Always did like yer smile. Ya reckon I could have one for the road?"

I looked down at my nails again, wrapping around the blades of grass beneath my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I found my resolve and looked back up, meeting his gaze, and mustered the warmest smile I could manage. The corners of his lips turned up in content.

It being time to take my leave, I straightened and reluctantly began my way back to the truck; finding myself stopping at the bottom, looking back.

"See you in the next lifetime, Jim."

Smiling, Jim nodded towards the truck, telling me to go on. I wanted to stay a little longer but he evidently doesn't want that. I'll be damned if I don't respect that. Wanting the people around you to remember you for who you are, not what you'll become...I imagine when my time comes, I'll want the same thing.

I don't want anyone's last memory of me to be a walking corpse. I'd rather be a ghost of the past.

I made my way back to the truck where Daryl sat waiting, and not a minute after I closed the door, we were leaving Jim behind.


	12. Chapter 12

We hadn't spoken a word since our group had gone down one member. The silence was deafening between us in stark contrast to the usual comfortable silence, and Daryl finally spoke after having enough of it.

"I heard ya talkin' to Jim."

Tearing my eyes from the scenery, my gaze fixed on Daryl. He glanced at me for a few seconds longer than he probably should have, and much longer than I expected but it's obvious there's something else he has to say. Daryl isn't the type to strike up an unnecessary conversation, especially with someone he knows won't carry one.

"Finally know why ya don't talk" It was almost a mumble when he spoke again but my suspicion loomed over intangibly. I'm not sure what he's getting at _._

And I've answered this question at least three times. What is everyone's fascination with my "reason" for not talking. Is it really that unusual?

I gave a small nod to encourage him to go on; let him know I'm listening.

"That the only reason ya don't talk?" he asked, glancing at me again, this time only briefly to view my answer and I nodded. He glanced at me unconvinced but didn't speak again and I allowed my gaze to turn back to the passing scenery.

I really don't understand this fixation. He's not chatty himself but sooner or later, he will want to know the why— rather how, behind my reason.

I'm not fool enough to believe he's given up; this will come up again, be it near future or distant. And I'm not looking forward to it either way.

* * *

We reached the CDC just past sundown, the light was fading faster by the second.

The smell hit me like an 18 wheeler as soon as my boots hit the pavement. Coughing was involuntary, not just for me. Even Daryl had trouble keeping his disgust contained.

I forced myself to breath through my nose, no matter if it made me cough or gag. Smell is the weakest sense, and after a minute it wasn't so bad anymore.

I followed Daryl to the others while we made our way towards the CDC building.

Bodies littered the 50 meters between us and the building. You couldn't go 5 feet before another one was in your path. If these bodies weren't dead twice over, not one of us would stand a chance.

Nobody would come out of this alive, not even come back as a walker, there'd be nothing left of any of us.

People kept shushing each other, trying to move quietly but let's face it they're a noisy bunch. The only one here capable of being truly silent is me but I can't hold it against them. I'm a ninja after all.

Ah, Glenn. What have you done to me? You've created a monster.

Well you know what they say: Best way to fight monsters, is with better monsters.

We got to the doors and Rick's fist loudly collided with the metal security shutters.

"There's nobody here." T-Do's distressed statement caused a sweep of panic through the already scared group.

"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick glanced around.

"Walkers!" Daryl's call set me on alert and I spun around as he killed one that was still far from reaching us. Pulling my knife, I scanned for more.

Not letting the others pull me into their panic is difficult when everyone's spiralling. Standing out in the cold, completely exposed is never easy to deal with, even for trained soldiers, let alone civilians such as ourselves.

"You lead us into a graveyard!" Daryl yelled at Rick. Not the smartest move at the moment. Counterproductive shushing came in response but they could hardly be noticed over the sounds of the children's muffled crying.

The atmosphere of fear hung so thick I could almost taste it. The stench of death around me seemed pale in foreboding comparison to what could happen while we stand here like live bait.

"He made a call" Shane defended his partner.

"It was the wrong damn call!" Daryl affirmed furiously.

"Shut up. You hear me? Shut up. Shut up." Shane pushed Daryl back, pointing as threatening as pointing can be at him.

To my surprise, Daryl didn't snap at him. Instead he moved back to watching the rear with me.

I glanced at him to see if he was done or if I would need to remind him what's more important right now. His blue gaze caught mine for a mere second before it returned to the open yard and street before us.

"Where are we gonna go?" Carol questioned through desperate tears. My eyes flicked back and forth between what was going on behind me, and the area surrounding us.

I don't like how quiet it is out here, save for us. Being the only things making noise out here, we might as well be servin' ourselves up on a silver platter.

"She's right. We can't be here— this close to the city after dark." The panic stricken voice of Rick's wife pulled Rick's attention over his shoulder for a moment.

"Fort Benning, Rick. Still an option." Shane prompted

"On what? No food, no fuel— that's 100 miles" Andrea shot it down.

"125, I checked the map" Glenn corrected, hastily glancing in all directions every few seconds.

Come on Rick. I know you can bring this under control, just let this idea go. We've got bigger things to worry about. We'll figure things out somehow. If worse comes to worse, I hope you can get us out of this...or live with where the cards fall.

"Forget Fort Benning we need answers tonight. Now." Lori pressed

"We'll think of something." Rick stated as calmly as the situation permitted; trying to sound reassuring but sorta failing. His calmed tone was enough to convince me, that at the very least, he and I are on the same page.

Finding new peace of mind, my nerves steeled and allowed me to focus solely on my self-assumed role in the group.

"Come on" someone took things into their own hands and the next thing I knew, everyone was headed back towards the cars— near racing.

I hesitated because the proclamation hadn't come from neither Rick, Shane, nor Daryl. It's no secret their voices are the only three with any sort of plan at the moment, and they're the only ones I trust at the moment.

Everyone else's fear will get the better of them.

Daryl may complain and question but he's not stupid enough to bark his own orders at a time like this unless he's absolutely certain.

I grabbed Glenn's backpack as he moved past me, stopping him. We can't just go running off. That's how the last gazelle to move becomes a meal.

"The camera! It moved." Rick called, stopping the others dead in their tracks.

"You imagined it" Dale dismissed the statement after a moment's consideration flicked through his composure.

I don't know what to do.

There are walkers spotting the distance to the cars and we're pretty much trapped against the building. Everyone is panicking and they are damaging my calm.

I don't know whether to grab Rick and drag him with me, or trust him and stay right where we are. My instincts told me to move but also pressing to trust Rick.

For the first time in my life, my gut isn't helping me make a decision.

"You're killing us!" Rick began desperately yelling at the machine.

So many things were going on around me, my mind couldn't focus on anything for more than a few seconds. What little stability Rick's previous calm had brought was gone with his collapsing composure.

I let go of Glenn's backpack but he didn't move like I half expected. Half the eyes in the group turned to me, including Shane, as if I'd be on the move and they were watching for whatever call I made.

I glanced at Daryl but it didn't bring the clarity I'd hoped for.

What do I do? Should I follow my gut? or trust Rick?

My grip tightened on my blade and I looked towards the vehicles, identifying the safest path. If we go now, we can make it before things get ugly, but what then? Where do we go?

Damnit, we can worry about that later.

I started to move, looking back to make sure Daryl at least knew what I was doing. I didn't have to though, as soon as I took a step, the others were already moving.

I didn't get five feet before I glanced back and a bright light blinded me.

The sound of screeching metal rung in my ears, and for a moment I wasn't sure what was happening but as my gaze caught sight of the shutters rising, everything stilled.

The entire group stood stunned —even myself— but everything snapped into alignment within my mind in a single fleeting moment. Having grasped a solid plan with time running out, I was moving before my mind could catch up.

My hand closed around Lori's shoulder and gave her a slight push towards to the doors.

The simple action of one person moving made a ripple effect, just as it had before and everyone snapped out of the confused daze overtaking them.

"Daryl, cover the back." Rick called as he moved forward. I covered the back with Daryl as the others began flowing through the thick glass doors, weapons raised.

"Hello?" Rick's voice echoed off the walls.

"Close those doors." Dale instructed, as the last of us finally slipped inside.

"Watch for walkers." No shit

What else am I gonna watch for? Flying pink marshmallows and a rainbow-powered spaceship piloted by a unicorn spittin' skittles?

"Hello?" Rick's voice echoed through the massive empty space again.

My ears picked up the familiar sound of a gun cocking and a new voice called, "Anyone infected?"

"One of our group was...he didn't make it." Rick answered warily.

I kept my eyes on the outside, glancing over my shoulder every couple of seconds to see what was going on.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" this new voice questioned in a hurry.

"A chance" Rick answered boldly.

"…That's asking an awful lot these days." came their reply.

"I know…" Rick trailed off leaving a moment of silence, disrupted only by fearful and exhausted panting of close to a dozen desperation riddled people.

Finally taking my attention away from the doors for a moment, the man's scrutinizing gaze scanned over each of us until he finally spoke again.

"You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission."

"We can do that." Rick agreed on behalf of the group with only a moment's hesitation.

"You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes it stays closed." The man purposefully strode towards us, lowering his gun.

Rick nodded and looked at us.

"Eve, Glenn, Daryl, Shane, you're with me. The rest of you stay here. We'll run for the cars and grab what we need. Eve do you have your goggles?"

I nodded and took point; motioning at Glenn and Daryl to follow while I moved for the doors.


	13. Chapter 13

Opening the door discreetly, I pulled my night vision goggles out of my bag and pulled them over my head before taking both my knives into my fists.

Okay 6 walkers to the right, 9 to the left heading past. If we move along the side of the building and go behind those sandbags halfway we should be able to make it past without drawing attention to ourselves.

I motioned for them to follow, staying low as I slipped out. Keeping to the side of the building, I stopped behind a wall and peeked around making sure the coast was clear.

I pulled the goggles off and handed them to Glenn just behind me as I glanced back. I pointed towards the sandbags 10 yards from us. He nodded and made the sprint, ducking behind them and looked around with the goggles.

He gave a thumbs up and I sent Daryl, Shane, and Rick next before going myself.

Glenn handed the goggles to Rick as soon as I got there and he looked towards the cars before handing them back to me.

"Eve, think you and Daryl can handle the one by the rear truck?"

I looked the goggles and nodded.

"Good. Only grab what you can carry. Eve, Daryl, and Glenn go to the truck and the van, Shane and I will take the Cherokee and the RV."

We split into two teams and on my signal, ran for the cars.

I went straight for the walker next to the Cherokee's bumper; spilling walker blood from the back of it's skull all down my sleeve, while Glenn and Daryl went for the truck. I carefully set the body on the ground, minimizing as much noise as I could and covered Glenn while he dug through the van.

Daryl was in and out of the truck in a matter of seconds and keeping guard with me. Not surprising considering all that wasn't much in there in the first place.

Glenn closed the van door a bit louder than I would've liked but it didn't look like anything heard us and we moved around the Cherokee to the RV without a hitch.

Glenn covered Shane while he dug through the Cherokee, and Daryl watched, while I ducked inside the RV and helped Rick grabbed everything we could and shove it in bags.

"That's everything" Rick muttered as we sealed the bags up. I heard Daryl's low, brief warning whistle and secured the large bags to my person as I came out.

Daryl pulled us both around the front of the RV, to avoid walker eyes and we crept along the back, meeting up with Shane and Glenn behind the Cherokee.

I peered over the hood across the distance back to the building through my goggles and clicked my tongue.

Damn, we're blocked.

I scanned around but it was no use. There's too many for just us five and guns aren't an option.

Shit…

"What's it look like?" Rick questioned, no doubt getting restless.

We need a distraction.

I passed the goggles to Rick as I looked around for anything we could use but there wasn't much more than rocks, a few pieces of broken glass and some litter.

"Oh Christ" Rick passed the goggles to Daryl who took a brief look before passing them to Shane and moving around Rick to crouch next me.

"What are we gonna do, we can't get past that without being seen" I glanced at Glenn who now had the goggles.

I might be able to use the glass, maybe throw one of those half bottles, draw them away with the shatter. But that won't draw the ones closer to the building. At the most they'll be looking away.

How do we get them to move? We can't risk killing them, the others will be on us in seconds if we try that. It'll draw too much attention if we try to kill them. Even stealthily.

We can't just leg it past, not with all this extra weight.

"You got a plan?" Daryl grumbled, tapping my elbow with his.

I glanced at him, long enough to let him know I was thinking.

"What're you thinkin?"Rick looked at me. Wow, never thought I'd see the day when I'm the one with the plan over you, Officer.

"Talk to us Eve" Shane got impatient, watching me look around.

Half-baked plan is better than no plan. I reached for one of the bottles and felt a shift in my jacket pocket as I picked up the bottle.

What have I—...I pat my jacket pocket. Oh that's brilliant.

Thank you convenience store.

I dipped into my pocket pulling out the shiny lighter I'd snagged, and rounded up some flammable street trash. A flattened coffee cup, half a torn burger wrapper, a few pieces of paper, and moved back behind the bulk of the car so the light wouldn't be seen before I wanted it to be.

I reshaped the cup to the point where it could stand upright on it's own and balled up the wrapper with the little shreds of paper, stuffing it all inside.

"What're you doing?" Glenn asked, while the four watched me work.

I pointed back towards the van and got them moving back while I lit the wrapper inside the cup and carefully placed it out in front of the where it would be seen between the gap of the RV and Cherokee.

I moved quick in getting back to the van and grabbed a handful of gravel on my way; stopping long enough to chuck it at the RV.

The rocks scattered over the Cherokee, clattering against the metal and glass of the cars, and I moved around the edge of the van next to Daryl.

We watched as the walkers moved out of our path towards the burning cup, until Daryl was confident we were clear, and motioned for us to move.

We legged it back to the sandbags, and instead of stopping this time, we ran straight for the CDC doors.

The second we made it back inside, T-Dog and Dale closed the doors behind us and the shutters began their descent over the glass doors.

I panted, letting my heart rate drop back to normal as I handed off the bags to their respective owners.

"Rick Grimes." Rick outstretched his hand towards the man who had let us in.

"Dr. Edwin Jenner" Jenner looked at his hand but ultimately didn't take it.

Steel doors slid open behind Jenner and everyone packed into a large elevator like sardines. As if that wasn't bad enough, as soon as the doors closed, it started going down; Much to my dislike.

Breathe, just breathe. We're okay. We're fine.

You are not in a steel box hanging over God knows how many stories of nothing but air.

Wide open fields, picture it. Ah, our first time skydiving. Think about that. The clouds, all the space, deafening rush of wind.

Inhale, exhale.

It was awkwardly silent for most of the ride down which I was perfectly alright with before Daryl broke my concentration.

"Doctors always go round packin' heat like that?"

"There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself." Came Jenner's swift reply. He looked back over his shoulder between all our faces.

"But you look harmless enough."

His gaze fixed on Carl and my hand hovered over my knife, watching him like a predator.

"Except you. I'll have to keep my eye on you."

Carl spawned a Hell of cheeky grin for someone who was terrified and crying not ten minutes ago. But I'm grateful he bounces back so quick. It'll serve him well.

Exiting the elevator provided half a second's relief to my mind before it reminded me we were now God knows how many feet underground.

My mouth went dry, while I tried to keep my breathing under control.

Following Jenner down a large hallway, I tried to focus on anything except where I was; resulting in my becoming invested in observing how different people walked. Who had the biggest gate, who had the heaviest step, whose hips swung from side to side.

That is, until Carol decided the silence was worse.

"Are we underground?" Jesus, Carol. Don't remind me.

"Are you claustrophobic?" Jenner asked almost rhetorically.

"A little" she sourly admitted.

Wide open space. You're in a wide open space. Nothing but sky, beach, and ocean as far as the eye can see.

"Vi, bring up the lights in the big room." Jenner called.

Come on, you know how this works. Focus on your breathing. Good girl. Slow your breaths.

I relaxed my shoulders, picturing gravity weighing my arms down, and focused entirely on remembering my trip to the Caribbean. The warm sunlight, soothing breeze, perfect temperature. The smell of the sea spray and tropical flowers. The coconut lotion and grilled pineapple slices I got addicted to whilst I was there.

"Welcome to zone 5"

"Where is everybody? The other doctors— the staff?" Rick inquired

"I'm it. It's just me here." Jenner turned back to look at us.

"What about the person you were speaking with? Vi?" Lori asked.

"VI, say hello to our guests. Tell them…" Jenner paused, "Welcome"

"Hello guests. Welcome." a disembodied voice echoed throughout the -thankfully- large open room.

"I'm all that's left." Jenner summed up. "I'm sorry"

At least I feel a little less...confined, in this bigger room.


	14. Chapter 14

"What's the point?" Andrea started as Jenner pulled the needle out of her arm. "If we were infected we'd all be running a fever."

"I've already broken every rule in the book letting you in here. Let me atleast be thorough." Jenner replied.

"All done." he put a tiny bit of gauze on her arm. Andrea stood up and staggered but Jacqui was quick to steady her.

"You okay?" Jenner looked at her with concern.

"She hasn't eaten in days. None of us have." Jacqui explained, as she helped Andrea sit.

Jenner motioned at me and I looked at Jacqui, having hoped I could go last but no such luck.

I reluctantly got up and sat down, stiffly rolling my sleeve up. Jenner stared at my arm for a second and I grit my teeth. He motioned for me to give him my arm but I hesitated a second too long.

"You afraid of needles?" he asked. I stayed stiff without answering but that was answer enough.

"Don't worry. It'll only be a slight pinch."

Yeah right. Like that makes it better. That's what every doctor says.

Extending my arm as slow as I could get away with, I tried not to shake.

I bit my tongue and tried not to flinch or grimace as he pushed that foul sharp rod into my skin; extracting the viscous red liquid keeping me alive.

"See? That wasn't so bad."

For you!

As soon as he pulled it out, I shot out of the seat and retreated several feet from the table.

I hate to admit it but needles transfix me, and where I found myself standing could, could, be construed as hiding behind Daryl.

Dead people I can deal with, but needles— needles underground— **Hell no**.

* * *

Laughter filled the room. The majority of the group sat around a table, filling their stomachs with food and wine.

"You know in Italy. Children have a little bit of wine with dinner, and in France." Dale educated those who could still pay attention.

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then." Lori kept her hand over Carl's cup.

"Come on, what's it gonna hurt?" Rick looked at her.

Lori stared at him for a second; having one of the same mental conversations Daryl & I have, before she took her hand off Carl's glass with an amused smile.

Bouts of laughter and hoots boomed through the room; drunken glasses were raised as Dale poured a miniscule amount of red liquid into the plastic cup before the boy.

Carl took the glass and eagerly sipped, while the rest of us waited for the ball to drop.

The look on his face when he tasted it— Priceless. And the room erupted with laughter again.

God I can't remember the last time we all laughed like this. I could get used to this.

"Stick to soda pop there, bud." Shane don't be a party pooper.

"Not you Glenn." Daryl commanded and I looked at Glenn, to my left.

"Whaa?" Glenn set down the bottle of wine he'd been turning over in his hands for the past 20 minutes.

"Keep drinkin, little man. I wanna see how red yer face can get."

Boisterous laughter exploded around the room for the tenth time tonight and I chuckled, downing the rest of my glass just as a light sound of cutlery clinking against glass captured the room's attention.

"It seems to me; we haven't thanked our host properly." Rick stood, raising his glass.

"He is more than just our host." T-Dog corrected, raising his swaying glass.

I raised my empty glass and Daryl grabbed my hand, steadying it as he poured me another drink.

A part of my skull -that wasn't buzzing- told me it was time to quit but the red liquid was just so tempting and it would be a shame —not to mention rude— to let it go to waste.

Besides, we— we deserve a little break. Who knows when it'll happen again.

"Do you ever talk?" an intoxicated T-Dog peered at me from behind his glass on the other side of the room. I smiled and gave a frivolous nod.

"Say somethin then"

I shook my head vigorously, still smiling like an idiot.

"She ain't a dog. She don't speak on command." Whoa, even Daryl's a little tipsy I see. Actually I don't, everything is starting to sway, like those mirrors you find at carnivals.

"That's right" I agreed, drunkenly. I tried to keep myself sitting up straight but failed. I let myself get a little too far and fell off the counter I was sitting on.

Seconds later, the entire room burst out laughing again. My own among them.

I laid there on the ground, not willing to pull myself up. I -remarkably- didn't spill my wine so why bother?

The next thing I knew, the party had all but died and I realized there was a serious conversation going on.

"When the military cordon got over run, the rest bolted." Jenner's eyes were fixed on Shane. Wait what are we talking about?

"Every last one?" You really nail that condescending tone, Shane, don't you?

"No." Jenner stated. "Many couldn't face walking out the door. They...opted out. There was a rash of suicides."

The room went quiet, only the sounds of rough swallows and sips.

"That was a bad time." Jenner stared down in remorse.

"You didn't leave." Andrea prompted him to continue.

"I just kept working. Hoping...to do some, good." Bull—shit. You're a crap liar, Jenner.

A long uncomfortable silence passed before Glenn walked near me, almost stepping on me.

"Dude, you're such a buzz kill…"

"…I want pancakes, with little whipped cream faces" Oops. I didn't mean to say that out loud.

Jenner smiled along with a few others before he stood up. "I'll show you where you'll be staying."

Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone started getting up, and Daryl appeared above me.

"Need help?"

I shook my head and tried to sit up but it took more effort than usual. Plus I don't wanna spill my glass. It's precious. I snuggled the glass stem, staring at the red nectar swirling around. I could've sworn there was more in here before.

"Did you, drink...my wine?" I looked up at Daryl.

"Never thought I'd see you this hammered." Daryl took my glass and set it on the table, despite my grabbing motion to give it back. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me up to my feet but I could barely stay there.

Daryl seemed to have no trouble finding great amusement at my expense. The jerk kept laughing every few seconds as I tried to keep my balance.

"Isss not funny." I finally snapped, but it came out more whiny and frustrated than planned and I felt my face twist into a grimace at the sound.

"You wish" Daryl snorted, taking my arm and pulling it over his shoulders. His arm wrapped behind me, which I stupidly tried to watch until my neck protested(humans don't bend that way) and my gaze turned forward again. At least I think— hope, hope that's forward.

I should have listened to that little voice telling me I've had enough when it did.


	15. Chapter 15

Jenner showed us down a hall where our rooms were, explaining things as we went.

"Most of the facility is powered down, including housing. So you'll have to make do here." Jenner flipped on the lights as we followed down the hallway.

"The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like."

I looked through a doorway as we passed the room. It was simple but it almost looked like an office with a personal bathroom. It probably was, actually.

"There's a rec-room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just— don't plug in the video games, or anything that draws power." Jenner leaned down to their level, bracing his hands on his knees.

"Same applies." Jenner straightened, pointing at the rest of us behind the kids.

"If you shower go easy on the hot water." Jenner disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall and Glenn turned -almost like a serial killer.

"Hot water?" Glenn I pray to god you never do that again, or you may wind up being the victim of a headshot.

"That's what the man said." T-Dog smiled toothily.

Dear lord that is terrifying.

I am either much drunker than I realize, or they have a side to them I hope to never be on the receiving end of again.

I slipped into the room I'd seen, and dropped my stuff on the ground before laying on the floor; claiming it as mine.

It has truly been a rough few days.

After staring at the ceiling for...I am honestly not sure how long, I pulled myself up with more difficulty than I care to admit, and dragged myself to the promised shower.

Actually getting in the shower was a bit hazy, but somehow I wound up standing(?) in the hot water, and I couldn't think about anything else.

I never thought heated water could feel this amazing. Who knew, you could miss a warm shower so much.

I can't believe this time last year I was eating pizza in New York. God, I miss pizza…and ice cream— nachos, soft pretzels, bacon, strawberries. Damn, I think I've got the munchies.

That doesn't usually happen when I drink though...It happened that...one time, after I accidentally agreed to take something from that one kid at the fourth house.

The buck teeth...weird hair, and green shirt. Sam something.

I got out of the shower, threw on the clothes I sleep in —some of my more comfortable— and wandered out of my room. I've regained my balance enough to walk semi-straight.

At least I think I'm walkin' straight.

I wandered down the hall and waved drunkenly at Carol and the kids as they passed. They smiled back, not even trying to hide their giggles and I mock scowled at them, making the laughs more intense as they passed by and waved goodnight.

A few more steps and I was forced to stop by a wave of dizziness. Leaning against the wall for support, I took a moment to breathe deep.

Absent-mindedly dismissing what sounded like a raised voice, I began walking again but the second time, my curiosity was successfully captured.

A few seconds later it stopped and the door to my left slammed open.

Shane stormed out, completely passing by my presence like I wasn't even here. For a second I panicked that I might be a ghost before I hit my elbow on the wall and the zing confirmed I'm not.

Unless I'm a poltergeist...

A startling noise drew me to peek into the room and stare at Lori leaning against what appeared to be a ping pong table; crying, desperately pushing her hair out of her face.

Staggering in, I found her shoulder and as soon as I touched it, she flinched. Then hugged me.

I don't mind as much as I normally would have, she's sorta helping me stay on my feet but it brought an unwelcome nostalgia with it.

"Shh" I rubbed her back. I didn't mean to rock back and forth but it seems to be helping so I didn't try to stop.

She cried for what felt like forever before beginning to calm down. She'd been clinging to me so tight, the leather from my jacket was crinkled and I'm (almost)sure their are fingernail dents.

I —tried— to walk with her back to her room, thankfully it's not too far from mine, but a sense of perhaps misplaced pride swelled through me for only stumbling here and there.

"Thank you. For everything." she sniffled, giving me another hug. I hugged her back, smiling.

"Noo~ problemo. Any time" I can't really tell if I just giggled but God I hope not.

I watched Lori go into her room before trying my best to walk straight but I kept drifting.

"Now I know why walkers walk so weird. They're all drunk." I muttered to myself and unfortunately found it hilarious; laughing to myself like a lunatic.

"Shh, quiet" I shushed myself, as if I'm not alone.

I'm losin' it, man.

By some means, I wound up sitting on the floor in the hallway. My back against the wall. Legs stretched out, knocking the tips of my toes together.

Did I leave my room...without my shoes?

Maybe I should just stay here. I'm probably not gonna sleep anyway.

"What're ya doin?"

I looked up and to see Daryl staring at me.

Sweet cream cheese pie— he is enormous from down here.

"I was walking...but I seem to have failed." I answered, with a confirming nod, curling my top lip over my bottom and making a 'pop'.

"My lips feel weird" I pulled at my bottom lip, trying to look at it.

"I've never heard ya talk so much."

"What, what you talkin' about...I talk a lot." I defended. He scoffed.

"Yeah, yer a real chatterbox." His voice dripped with sarcasm and if I wasn't so intoxicated, I might've had a comeback for it, and at least a scowl or a laugh. A headshake.

"Come on. Get up." Daryl stretched out his hands and helped me stand up.

Déjà vu

"You're a nice person." The words slipped out before I could stop them, not that I'm sober enough to anyway, and Daryl looked at me like I'd just told him I ate a cat and puked glitter.

"How much did ya drink?"

"Umm…" That's a good question.

"3…4... a lot. But— that doesn't mean...i'ssss—not true."

"Yer never allowed ta drink again"

I stumbled down the hall, using Daryl as a crutch. He was borderline carrying me until we reached my room. At least I think it's mine, all these doors look the same but I trust Daryl handles his liquor better than I do.

Seeing as how he can actually, actually walk...and think.

When I finally got the door open, he helped me to the couch and I dropped like a sack of potatoes.

"I'm not tired" I rubbed my forehead with my hand and sat up.

"The Hell ya aren't. Go to sleep." he commanded.

"Yes, sir." I mock saluted and laughed at his expression. He rolled his eyes and pointed. Pursing my lips like a scolded child, I laid down and let my hands fall limp on my stomach.

After a few seconds my eyes had already closed of their own accord.

"Night, Eve" Daryl mumbled but I still caught it. At least my hearing doesn't wane when I'm wasted.

"Night Daryl" I mused somnolently. I'm amazed I didn't slur(That I know of) _._

I vaguely registered the door shut before I was out.

* * *

I awoke with a groan. Discovering I was on the floor, with my face pressed into the less than soft carpet but just comfortable -or tired- enough to not want to move.

A low moan outside the door and shuffling had me bolting straight up out of instinct, and my brain throbbed against my skull like I'd been hit with a brick after running a marathon.

I pulled my knife and made my way to the door, opening it like a monster in the closet from a horror movie, to peek out.

I saw Glenn shuffling down the hallway, shying away from the light like a vampire and relaxed. False alarm. He must have a killer hangover.

"Still on edge?"

I looked over to a smiling T-Dog coming out of his own room, and nodded. Soon regretting it as the throb moved to my temple and the base of my skull.

I think I cricked my neck last night.

I glanced at Glenn again. His eyes smooshed shut, wandering down the hallway blindly.

"What were you planning to do with that?" T-Dog nodded towards my hand. Following his eyes, I stared blankly at the spatula in my hand.

The fu-…Where's my knife?

T-Dog must've noticed my confusion and chuckled. "Man, you must've gotten real hammered last night. Come on, let's get some food."

I nodded -although it wasn't more than just blinking for a second longer than normal- and moseyed down the hall with T-Dog. My head pounding like the inside of a drum. At least it's a slow beat.

Let's hope that doesn't change.

We wandered into the kitchen/dining/party room from last night and I dropped down at the table at the first open seat, laying my head on my arms and letting the spatula clatter onto the table.

Glenn winced but so did I. I didn't expect it to be that loud.

People trickled in as the minutes past and T-Dog made breakfast, while Glenn moaned across from me about his hangover but I'm so exhausted I honestly couldn't care less.

After a while most everyone was up and chatting about hangovers in one way or another, while I was very nearly asleep again.

When I finally brought my eyes up, Jenner had just walked into the room. Daryl following him a few seconds later.

Several greetings involving daytime were exchanged before Dale finally said something more original.

"Dr. Jenner I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing."

"But you will anyway." Jenner predicted like a moody teenager as he poured his coffee.

"We didn't come here for the eggs." Andrea stated. Really? I did.

Jenner stared at us while he sipped his coffee before sighing and motioning for us to follow.

Do we have to do this now? Can it wait?

I nodded at Daryl when he looked at me, sort of our way of saying 'Morning' before standing up and trudging out next to him.


	16. Chapter 16

Jenner lead us to the big room from yesterday and turned on one of the computers.

"Give me playback of TS-19"

"Playback of TS-19" the disembodied Vi lit up a wall-sized screen in front, with what I assume is a video.

"Few people ever got a chance to see this. Very few" Jenner waited for the screen to finish loading everything.

"Is that a brain?" Carl asked as soon as the screen finished loading up the images.

"An extraordinary one" Jenner replied.

I'll say, that brains lit up like Temple Square on New Year's Eve.

"Not that it matters in the end..." Jenner trailed off, turning his attention back to the screen.

I studied the screen, skimming the text on the edges. I've always had a disturbingly steep learning curve; or so my high school teachers told me.

I'm not so sure their opinions can be trusted though. We didn't interact one-on-one much.

"Take us in for EIV" Jenner directed.

I pulled myself up onto one of the desks, so I could sit for awhile. If I don't, I might wind up on the floor. Again.

"Enhanced Internal view" Vi zoomed in on the brain, taking the camera angle to the side before zooming all the way in on the brain stem, down to the microscopic level where synapses were firing like bullets.

Damn, that's a beautiful brain.

"What're those lights?" Shane asked

Seriously? Did you not pass high school biology?

"It's a person's life" Jenner answered. Very philosophical, props man.

"Experiences, memories. It's everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light...is you. The thing that makes you unique...and human." Jenner talks like a professor, lecturing. He's not a half bad public speaker, and I wouldn't mind so much any other day but my head's killing me.

"You don't make sense? Ever?" Daryl shifted next to me.

"Those are synapses." Jenner's tone was a little degrading. Classic for a "nerd" when talking to someone they think is beneath their intelligence.

"Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says, does, or thinks. From the moment of birth...to the moment of death."

"Death?" Rick moved forward. "That's what this is. A vigil?"

"Yes" Jenner seems to only be half paying attention."Or ra— rather, the playback of the vigil"

What's going on with him? I don't think he drank as much as...some, of us.

"This person died?" Andrea stepped forward, eyes fixed on the screen. "Who?"

"Test subject 19" Jenner answered. I glanced sideways at him, something about the way he answered that, feels a little odd.

"Someone who was bitten, and infected...and volunteered to have us, record the process..."

Did he know this person?

"Vi, scan forward to the first event" Jenner instructed.

"Scanning to first event " Vi sped along until the screen changed and most of the brain stem was turning black. Little tingles of red running along the dark branches.

"What is that?" Glenn took the words right outta my head

"It invades the brain like meningitis" Jenner gestured at the screen.

The person started to have -what looks to me like- a seizure.

"The adrenal glands hemorrhage. The brain goes into shutdown and then the, major organs." Jenner explained.

The person went still as all light faded from the brain, even the red ones from that black tree pattern in the brain stem. It seriously looks like ivy growing around and suffocating trees.

"Then death." Jenner looked down

"Everything you ever were, or ever will be...gone"

I didn't hear what Sophia said, but it was something about Jim. I glanced at the others, and both Andrea and Jacqui had tears running down their cheeks.

Jenner looked at Andrea when she inhaled, sniffling, and took a step back.

"She lost somebody two days ago, her…sister." Lori clarified for him.

"I lost somebody too, I know how devastating it is" Jenner sympathized.

Who hasn't lost someone nowadays? Hard to imagine anyone out there who hasn't lost someone they cared about.

I glanced at my hands, before looking at Daryl. His arms are crossed over his chest, eyes trained on his boots. He's gotta be thinking about Merle.

"Scan to the second event" Jenner pulled the attention of the room to the screen once again.

"Scanning to second event" Vi scanned forward just as before to the 'second event'.

"The resurrection times vary wildly. We have reports of it happening in as little as 3 minutes. The longest we heard of was 8 hours. In the case of this patient it was, 2 hours, 1 minute...7 seconds..."

I was right. No one bothers to remember details that specific about someone they weren't close to.

I watched as little red lights began sparking in the center of the dark root lookin' part and spread outward until the body started moving again.

"It restarts the brain?" Lori asked incredulously.

"No, just the brain stem." Jenner answered, before realizing most here didn't know what that meant.

"Basically it gets them up, and moving."

"But they're not alive?" Rick asked almost like a statement.

"You tell me" Jenner motioned to the screen, moving behind Rick like a teacher asking a student to show the class how to solve the problem on the board.

"It's nothin' like before" Rick shook his head. "Most of that brain is dark"

"Dark, lifeless, dead" Thank you for those wonderful synonyms, Jenner.

"The frontal lobes, the neocortex— the human part, that doesn't come back. The you part."

Most of that sentence was gibberish to everyone save for me here, doc. Thank God my science lab partner was a human physiology nut.

Come to think of it, she may have actually worked here. In school she never shut up about her dream job, to work at the CDC. I never doubted she would either, she was possibly the smartest person I've ever met. Science— viruses and the like in particular, were her thing.

"Just a shell...driven by, mindless instinct."

Something appeared at the top corner of the video and for a second I thought it was something popping up before there was a bright flash on screen and a path carved through the middle of the brain like the Grand Canyon.

"God, what was that?" Carol asked.

It's pretty obvious what that was, hun.

"He shot his patient in the head" Andrea answered. "Didn't you?"

"Vi, power down the main screen and the work stations" Jenner walked around from the front row of computers to the middle row.

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea moved next to Rick, turning towards Jenner with an almost accusing tone.

"It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal."

You're killin' me here doc. You sound like your spitballing. At best. If you don't know, say so. I'd rather that than listen to you lie to me— to us.

"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui proposed.

"There is that" Jenner's eyes directed to the floor once again. I've seen him do that a lot in the short time we've been here. I know depression when I see it. And I'm gonna take a wild guess, it has something to do with that person he lost.

"Somebody must know something. Somebody, somewhere" Andrea insisted.

I glanced at Daryl and moved closer to the group with him, leaning on another desk next to Carol and Sophia.

"There are others, right?" Carol asked. "Other facilities"

"There may be some" Jenner turned but he doesn't sound hopeful. "People like me"

"But you don't know, how can you not know?" Rick's frustration reared.

"Everything went down. Communications, directives, all of it. I've been in the dark for almost a month." Jenner answered almost timidly.

He was alone all this time?

Seeing the virus kill that person like this is strange but it's not sad to me. Just pictures on a screen, but seeing the virus restart the brain stem, that was something.

It looked like a dead tree, catching fire but never becoming anything more than embers.

"So it's not just here? There's nothing left anywhere. Nothing. That's what you're really saying right?" Andrea pressed.

Jenner stayed silent, looking very uncomfortable but from the look on his face, he knows the answer to that question. Just not willing to provide it. But his reluctance to answer, is answer enough.

"Jesus" Jacqui breathed.

"Man, I'm gonna get shit-faced drunk…again" Daryl walked past me, rubbing his eyes with his palms until he leaned against one of the other computers just as I have.

"Dr. Jenner I know this has been taxing for you, and I hate to ask one more question…but, that clock." Dale walked past me and Daryl pointing; drawing our attention to a red digital clock on the far wall.

Has that always been there?

"It's counting down. What happens at zero?" Dale gave Jenner that gaze he does when he wants a straight answer.

"The…basement generators— they run out of fuel." Jenner headed for the door, the second he'd answered.

"And then?" Rick asked but Jenner didn't even look at him.

Oh that does not inspire confidence. I've got a bad feeling about this.

Generators without fuel means no power. So what's so bad about having no power? Does that mean we'll be stuck down here? Will the doors and things not open if there's no power?

We could be...trapped, down here.


	17. Chapter 17

"'ey, you okay?"

I looked at Daryl, who was staring at me.

I realized then, I was almost hyperventilating. My palms were sweating, and my mouth was bone dry.

"Vi, what happens when the power runs out?" Rick asked the disembodied computer.

" _When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur."_ It may have just been my imagination but her tone when she said that sounded like someone talking down to an idiot.

Rick looked around at everyone before he motioned to me, "Eve, Glenn, T-Dog, Shane you come with me. Everyone else, go back to your rooms."

"What're you doing?" Lori asked as I moved around her.

"We're gonna find out what's going on" Rick answered as we went past them, towards the door with a 'stairwell' sign above it.

I pushed the door open and slid down the railing, while they all took the steps, until I reached the bottom flight and waited for them to catch up.

"Decontamination. What does that mean?" Glenn's question echoed off the walls with everyone's footsteps as they reached me.

"I don't like the way Jenner clammed up. The way he just wandered off like that" Shane walked past me to look at the map on the wall with Rick.

"What's wrong with him? Seriously. Is he nuts, medicated, what?" T-Dog glanced between me and Glenn.

I'mma go with mentally unstable. He should be medicated.

Depression is a serious thing, and if Jenner's not depressed I don't know what could qualify.

"In there" Rick pointed behind me and I turned as he walked past me, to open a door I hadn't seen.

I followed behind Glenn into what looks like a giant boiler room, but I'm gonna take a leap here and assume they're generators.

"Check that way" Rick instructed. He and Shane went to the left and I motioned for Glenn and T to go right, while I took the center aisle.

I know this place is "safe" I have this nagging feeling something's gonna jump out at me.

I hope -for their own sake- the others don't get too close at the moment.

I went down my section, checking every drum I went past and after the first 6 were empty my stomach dropped. The further I went, the faster I went. Not even bothering to stop anymore, I just pushed the drums as I went passed and every single one of them gave little to no resistance.

There's an alarming number of flammable warnings in here.

I jumped out of my skin when the lights suddenly turned off.

I don't like this. Underground in the dark.

I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and leaned against a fuel drum; Trying to steady my breathing. I don't like this, I can't— calm down, just breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. These buildings are designed to withstand tanks, not even a jumbo-jet crashing into the roof could bring this building down. I gripped the fuel drum tighter, focusing on the pressure in my fingers.

"Eve?!" Glenn's voice startled me and I whacked my wrist on the drum, making a loud echo. Pain spiked through my nerves, all the way up to my elbow as if I'd hit my funny bone.

Son of a— I clutched my wrist, looking around. It's too dark to see much but it's not pitch black, at least.

I turned and whistled to let them know I heard, while I felt my way back down the aisle.

"Emergency lighting, on" lights near the floor turned on and the second I could see again, I bolted to find them and get the Hell out of here. I should've known this wasn't a good idea. Why did I come down here? What did I think was gonna happen? —I wasn't thinking. That's the problem. You don't need 5 people to check a generator room. They would've been perfectly fine if I'd stayed up top.

Glenn and T-Dog came up next to me, jogging/running at my pace until we reached Rick and Shane.

"You guys kill the lights?" Glenn asked the two who were hunched over a fuel drum.

"Nah, it just went out" Shane answered

"Anything?" Rick asked

"Yeah, lot a dead generators and more empty fuel drums than I can count" T-Dog answered. I shook my head when Rick looked at me, hoping no one had noticed my fidgeting in the dark.

"It can't be down to just that one" Shane stared incredulously at the dial stuck at the E, on the final generator in front of us.

I can't— I've gotta get outta here before I have a full blown panic attack. My anxious tapping foot sent me towards the the door and racing up the stairs before anyone could stop me.

The guys were on my heels all the way to the top. I guess I'm not the only one with issues about the creepy basement after all.

We reached the top of the stairs and not ten seconds after we got out of the stairwell, Lori called for her husband.

We linked up with everyone who was following Jenner back to the big room while Rick was at the front, confronting Jenner for some answers.

"What'd you find down there?" Daryl fell into step next to me, looking over me with his eyebrows knit together.

"Time running out" I shook my head, in an attempt to distract from my current...state.

We reached the platform with all the computers and Jenner stopped at the steps to take a drink from a bottle before he handed it to Daryl.

Daryl took it spitefully, spilling most of what little was left, in the reckless gesture.

"It was the French." Jenner looked at Andrea.

"What?" she stepped forward.

"They were the last to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors, and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end."

"They thought they were close to a solution." Jenner climbed the 4 steps.

"What happened?" Jacqui asked and Jenner stopped, turning.

"Same thing that's happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice." Jenner went to walk but did a double take.

"The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?" Jenner walked to a computer on the far side of the platform.

"Let me tell you somethin'—" Shane went to go after him but Rick stopped him.

"To Hell with this Shane, I don't even care. Lori" Rick looked back at us, "Grab our things, everybody get your stuff, we're getting out of here NOW!" Rick shouted, making most everyone flinch and head for the door.

An alarm began to blare before anyone got 10 feet and a big clock appeared on the giant screen.

"30 minutes to decontamination"

"Doc what's goin' on here, doc?" T-Dog yelled over the alarm.

"Everybody, y'all heard Rick, get your stuff. Let's go now!" Shane got everyone back on task.

"Did you just lock us in? He just locked us in!" Glenn shouted. Daryl barrelled past me back towards Jenner and I jolted forward out of reflex, trying to stop him before he got there but damn this man can move when he's motivated.

"Shane! SHANE!" Rick shouted

Shane caught Daryl, just before I did and T-Dog jumped in to help as soon as we had hold of him.

I pryed Daryl's grip from the back of Jenner's lab coat while Shane pulled Daryl back, and T-Dog helped keep him there.

It wasn't easy to stop Daryl from smashing that empty bottle over Jenner's head but as soon as I got the bottle from him, he calmed considerably.

How blitzed is he? He wasn't even like this back at camp when we found out Jim—...

Rick stalked towards Jenner, "Jenner, open that door now."

"There's no point. Everything top side is locked down, the emergency exits are sealed" Jenner refused

"Well open the damn things" Dale argued

"That's not something I control; the computers do" Jenner shook his head. "I told you, once that front door closed it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that."

Everyone fell silent but it wasn't a good, or tolerable, silence. The panic was tangible. Pants mingling with fear and adrenaline in the tense atmosphere was almost suffocating.

"It's better this way." Jenner stated, with a twinge of unease.

"What is? What happens in 28 minutes?" Rick demanded.

Jenner shied away from his gaze, turning his attention to the computer in front of him instead.

Shane slammed his hand on the desk, making Jenner jump and Rick yelled, "What happens in 28 minutes!?"

"You know what this place is!?" Jenner shouted in Rick's face before I could even register his standing.

"We protected the public from very, nasty STUFF!" he yelled in Shane's face.

"Weaponized smallpox!" he turned, looking at the rest of us.

"Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! EVER!" Jenner yelled.

Jenner sat down, composing himself again.

"In the event of a catastrophic power failure, in a terrorist attack for example. HIT's are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to wrap my head around what he was saying.

"HIT's?" Rick asked

"Vi, define" Jenner commanded.

"HIT fuel air explosives consist of a two stage arousal ignition that produces a blast way of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum pressure affected ignites the oxygen between 5,000 and 6,000 degrees where the greatest damage to structures and loss of life is desired"

Oh God

"Sets the air on fire" Jenner clarified grimly

I looked around at everyone's faces. Carol and the kids crying, everyone in a state of shock. I didn't notice I had grabbed Daryl's shirt until he looked at me.

My hands were shaking so bad I couldn't stop them, even if I wanted to.

"No pain" Jenner muttered. "An end to sorrow, grief…regret"

Jenner looked at Rick, "Everything"

I took a rushed breath and forced my hand to let go of Daryl's shirt and not seconds after I did, Daryl took the bottle from my hand and threw it as hard as he could at the titanium door, keeping us trapped.

I walked down the platform, gripping the metal railing until my knuckles were well past white; Trying to pull my head together but failing.

My worst nightmares coming true. I knew my life wouldn't end well and I've known my entire life, life is one cruel twist of fate after another but I never imagined it would be like this.

Burned and buried alive…

Daryl and Shane started hacking at the door with fire axes but it was barely even making sparks.

There's gotta be a way out— there's always a way out. Always...

Everything around me started fading. The edges of my vision going black, and I couldn't hear anything anymore. I was going numb. All the voices, the arguments, the struggling, the mania, all of it was drowning in the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears.

I was jolted from shut down when Daryl shouted, "Well your head ain't!" and I looked up just in time to see him ready to bring that axe down on Jenner's skull and 4 others were struggling to stop him.

They managed to push Daryl away and he backed off, circling like a shark at the back, when he looked at me and stopped mid-step for a second.

He's giving me that 'u good?' look.

I grit my teeth and let go of the railing, squeezing my fists at my sides and nodded; moving closer to the group.

I don't know how or why that of all things worked but it was the wake up call I needed, and I'm not about to question it right now.


	18. Chapter 18

My chest was painfully tight, as though my heart was trying it's damnedest to pull my rib-cage in and wrap the bones around itself so tight it could no longer beat.

At first it felt like I was caving in, falling through a black hole with no end that had opened up inside me but now...

I stood still, staring at Rick and Jenner but in truth I can't see anything. Even if I am looking at them, it's like I'm outside myself; watching my life as if it were a movie.

I can still feel myself shaking but nothing was working to stop it. The cold sweat on my neck ran down my spine, provoking a shiver. I know I'm breathing just fine but I feel like I'm suffocating.

Blood pulsed in my ears, putting a filter over everything I was hearing. Nothing was making it to my brain, and that only worsened the panic attack I'd tried to prevent.

"There is no hope. There never was"

What

I sobered up in single moment. Jenner's words sending ice through my veins, and bringing me crashing back into my body.

"There's always hope. Maybe it won't be you, maybe not here. But somebody somewhere—"

"What part of everything's gone, do you not understand?" Andrea snapped from her curled up position on the floor.

"Listen to your friend, she gets it. This is what takes us down. This is...our extinction event." Jenner sat back down.

How can you be so sure? Humans are the most resilient creatures on the planet. We're the smartest, most ingenuitive.

Extinct means there's not even 1 left. We, us right here, mean the human race is not extinct. Species have made comebacks from near extinction for centuries; coming back from as few as 10.

Hell, this isn't even the first time humans have walked this line. And we've gotten way closer to the fire than this.

"This isn't right. You can't just keep us here." Carol argued.

"One tiny moment— a-a milisecond. No pain." Jenner leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like _this_." Carol cried. As opposed to what? Getting torn apart?

There aren't many who deserve to die so horribly. It's unfortunate we're here instead of them.

Shane stormed past me

"Wouldn't it be kinder, more compassionate to just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?" you're rationalizing Jenner.

I disagree. That may be for some, but everyone deserves a choice. A chance to make their own decision.

A gun cocked behind me and I turned just as Shane walked past me his shotgun in hand, with a look that sent me reeling back to the past.

"Shane! No!" Rick tried to stop him

"Out of the way, Rick. Stay outta my way!" Shane shoved him away, into Dale.

"'Ey!" My back hit something but even knowing it was Daryl I'd backed into, my feet didn't stop until I'd hit the railing behind me.

The murderous eyes of that man burrowing into me from the bottom of a dark staircase, as I watched Shane put Jenner at the end of his barrel.

"Open that door. Or Imma blow your head off, do you hear me?!" Shane screamed at Jenner.

"Brother, brother, this is not the way. You do this, we'll never get out of here" Rick tried to reason with him.

"Shane, you listen to him." Lori backed up her husband.

"The Hell's the matter with you?" Daryl kept his voice low as he moved in front of me, only taking his eyes off those two for a second to glance at me.

After all these years, I didn't know those eyes could still affect me.

"Ey, snap out of it." Daryl elbowed me in the arm, and my reflex was to grab his arm and move to flip him but Shane started screaming and a shotgun blast stopped me in my tracks.

Everything erased from the surface of my mind, except for Shane emptying his shotgun into the computers on the far side of the room. My hands were on my thighs, searching for my knives but they weren't there, none of my gear was.

Everyone close dropped except for Rick, while the rest of us -Daryl and myself included- stepped back.

I watched Rick take his chance to grab the gun and wrestle Shane for it. The shotgun went off during their struggle and took out a ceiling light before Rick clocked him in the face, then again in the chest with the butt of the gun, knocking Shane to the ground.

"Are you done now? Are you done?" Rick stood over Shane, with the gun ready to hit him with it again if need be.

"Yeah I guess we all are" Shane didn't miss a beat.

Those who'd gone to ground, stood back up and I looked at Daryl, who also glanced at me.

I don't know what I was expecting but it felt like the right thing to do at the moment.

Panting filled the room as Rick straightened and turned to look over the rest of us.

He made eye contact with me and I glanced around and nodded. Remarkably, I think everyone's okay.

He gave the shotgun to T-Dog before looking at everyone individually.

No one said anything, either out of shock or fear, or both. There's no way to tell which.

A shine drew my attention to the hatchet I hadn't noticed Daryl still had in his hand before Rick's voice drew me back up front.

"I think you're lying."

"What?" Jenner looked at him

"You're lying. About no hope." Rick panted.

"If that were true, you'd have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn't."

"You chose the hard path. Why?" Oh I know that voice, what're you getting at, Officer.

"It doesn't matter" Jenner shook his head.

"It does matter. It always matters." Rick scoffed and moved forward, leaning down to be eye level with Jenner.

"You stayed when others ran. Why?"

"Not. because. I wanted to." Jenner scowled in Rick's face.

"I made a promise..." Jenner stood, Rick straightening with him. "To her." Jenner pointed at the screen. "My wife."

"Test subject 19 was your wife?" Lori asked but it came out more like a statement.

So I was right.

Daryl knocked his elbow against mine only this time my head's on straight again so I didn't grab him like I did a minute ago.

He started walking towards the metal door and I followed him halfway up the ramp, while he started whacking at it with the hatchet again.

Fat lotta good that's gonna do, but I keep forgetting I'm not the only one anxious about being stuck— down here.

I watched Daryl hack at the door, somehow it sets my nerves at ease enough to let me think but I didn't have to think for long, the door opened not 3 minutes after he started.

"Come on!" Daryl called, motioning to others when I was already moving.

I took off down the hallway after him and went straight to my room, snatching my backpack and gear belt as fast as I could.

I bolted out of the room, meeting up with others in the hallway as I got my belt on, before I ripped the door to the stairs open, holding it while everyone rushed passed me and taking the opportunity to secure my thigh sheaths.

When there was no one else coming down the hallway, I flew up the stone steps, taking them two at a time but by the time I got to the top of the steps, I saw daylight and T-Dog was trying to break a window with a chair but it wasn't so much as scratching it.

"Dog, get down! Get down!" Shane went over with his shotgun

Shane blasted it with his shotgun and not even that worked, it didn't even crack, the fragments just lodged in the glass.

"Jesus"

"The glass won't break?" Sophia looked up at me.

I'm not even sure it is glass.

"Rick. I have something that might help" Carol went up to Rick, ruffling through her bag.

"Carol I don't think a nail file's gonna do it" Shane offensively commented. I sent a fleeting glare at him before helping Sophia stand up and watching Carol pull a grenade out of her bag, holding it out to Rick.

I grabbed Glenn and ran towards the stairs, pulling him and Sophia both to take cover, Carol following us and everyone else doing the same.

Daryl dropped next to me just before Rick came running towards us.

I forced Glenn's forehead to the floor, covering the back of my own head with my other hand as the blast went off.

I turned over and watched shards of glass drop from the window frame.

It worked...

"Eve, you first, take out those two walkers!" Rick instructed.

I ran to the window, pulling my knives from their sheaths and the second I made the 4 foot drop, I sank one into the skull of the walker next to me and threw the other into the forehead of the one I'd drawn the attention of.

I retrieved my knife just as Daryl came up next to me, followed by the others.

I sheathed my knives while he, Shane, and Rick were now down and taking out the walkers in our path and helped Carol, the kids, and Lori out before running as fast as I could to the cars.

I killed two more walkers as I caught up with Daryl, not slowing down even for a second until we reached the truck.

I pulled the door open and tossed my backpack on the floor at the same time as Daryl and as soon as I slid into the seat, I pulled my door shut.

I never thought it'd be bad to be so in-sync with someone until we both ducked down at the same time and whacked our temples together on the seat.

Daryl groaned and I hissed but a throb in the temple was the least of our worries as the blast wave hit; leaving my ears ringing.

Every time I thought it was done, there was another explosion. One blast after another. The ground shook like an earthquake. The heat was intense and I could feel it on my skin as if I'd been walking around Florida all day without sunscreen but it was gone in seconds.

Now I know what it's like— was like to be in a warzone.

We stayed down for another few seconds before I put my hand on the dash and carefully pulled myself up until I could see out the window before sitting up fully.

Oh my God...

My jaw was slack, staring at the scorched, blazing rubble of the building we were inside not five minutes ago.

I glanced at Daryl just as he glanced out the back windshield. I glanced back to see Shane was alright in his jeep behind us.

Turning back to the front, I spotted Dale and Andrea running for the RV and Glenn swung the door open shouting for them to get in.

Jesus, I can hear the fire from here. Rumbling like some hungry monster.

The caravan started moving out and I stared at the pure destruction as we drove passed it.

The black smoke cascaded into the sky several hundred feet, the flames were as high as some of Atlanta's smaller skyscrapers and I could feel the intense heat on my face from almost 100 yards, even as we drove away.

* * *

It was quiet until the caravan stopped a few miles away to collect new supplies, trade out cars, find fuel, etc.

Daryl traded the truck for his brother's motorcycle, seeing as it'll use less fuel. The downside being that it's louder, but another upside being that it can fit places the cars can't.

We gave up several cars for 2. Just the Cherokee, the RV, and the motorcycle.

Most everyone was crammed into the RV and Carol's Cherokee but I rode with Daryl.

God knows, I could use the open space and fresh air right now. IF my sanity is to recover.

I'm glad I didn't have to ask for the ride. Daryl just assumed I was riding with him.

It's not the most comfortable because it's not meant to be a two person bike but it sure beats being packed like a sardine into one of the cars.

I watched the city get smaller over my shoulder as we headed away from what we know.

I really hope this doesn't turn out to be jumping into the deep end without knowing how to swim.


	19. Chapter 19

I looked back over my shoulder at the caravan and my hair whipped me in the face for the thousandth time.

Oh that is it.

Grabbing it, I threw it out of my face so roughly it felt like I may have pulled some of it out.

I gathered my hair up, smoothing it back to pull into a ponytail so it would stop this incessant whipping. My cheeks are stinging. I never thought I could be scratched by own hair before but apparently it's more than possible.

I turned my head so I wouldn't elbow Daryl, and pulled the elastic, looping my hair through until I was satisfied but while I had my hands up, we hit a bump.

I didn't even feel myself falling before I was grabbing Daryl's shoulders.

He started, and I caught his questioning eye in the side mirror. I gave a sheepish apologetic look before his eyes were back on the road and mine moved to the RV in the mirror.

Are they...?

I looked over my shoulder and my mouth made an 'O'. They are, those little shits.

I watched Glenn and Dale laughing at me through the windshield. Glenn's face is turning red, why that little—

I stuck out my tongue and flipped them both off despite a smile creeping at the corners of my own lips and they just laughed harder.

Oh I will remember this, you oompa-loompas. You best watch your backs.

Turning forward again, my hand found Daryl's shoulder once more and it occurred to me how...comfortable he is. Comfortable may be the wrong word, but as far as I can tell he's not uncomfortable.

I've known Daryl for a significant time now, and considering how he is with people standing too close to him, I'm surprised he's alright with my touching him. Even if I don't really have much of a choice.

It's not like we haven't touched before, but it's mostly brief and small like bumping elbows or shoulders. The longest we've ever made physical contact -that I remember- I believe was when I was so drunk I was staggering like a walker.

I don't remember exactly how that went down, but I do remember most of it. I think.

I kept my grip loose, not wanting to make it awkward, or seem like I was invading his space but I do admit to adjusting my strength every so often; just to see how he would react.

Sometimes I let my curiosity get ahead of me, but when am I gonna get another chance like this? This might be my only chance to see just how much rapport we have at the moment.

We've been through alot together, all of us, but it's no secret there are only a handful of people Daryl seems to trust -even on a rudimentary level.

I don't know what I expected from this "experiment" but what I found was interesting. My grip could get steadily tighter over a few minutes and Daryl only glanced at me if my knuckles started to pale. If my grip got suddenly tighter, he glanced almost immediately, actually looking over his shoulder once; I think I pinched a nerve in his shoulder that time though. But what was really surprising was if my grip got too loose, the look he gave me in that mirror could almost be considered a glare. I'm a little afraid to know what he'd do if I let go now.

I don't think I'm gonna test it. He might already be on to me. Those last few looks seemed a little weird. And now my fingers are actually starting to cramp.

The CDC's a loooong way behind us. We've been driving through the countryside for longer than my attention span can handle. Fresh air is great and all, but my nose is really cold now, and even my shoulders have tightened up.

Sitting on the back of a motorcycle isn't the most comfortable to begin with but this bike wasn't built for two in the first place. Plus his crossbows bolts have been stabbing me in the thigh every time we hit a bump for the last 10 miles.

Still, it could be worse. There have been fewer and fewer walkers the farther we've gotten from the city. There's almost none in the stretches between towns.

It's surprising how few cars are on the roads out here. I've seen maybe 4 since we past the last exit to a close town.

Oh, make that five.

I watched the white Subaru pass as we drove by.

Six— seven. Seven since the last town. Eight, no. One, two, three...14.

What the…

I scanned the road in front of us, moving to the side a bit so I could see around Daryl.

Of course things could never go so smoothly for us. Don't know what came over me, thinking things would get even just a smidge easier outside the city.

I stared in frustration at the road -or rather the traffic jam- ahead of us.

Daryl's speed dropped under 30, as he maneuvered between the cars.

The further we got in the more cars I saw piled up in our way. Ah geez.

I turned and motioned for Dale to stop over my shoulder, just before Daryl headed for a gap only a bike could fit through, there's a larger space on the other side of the truck but I assume he plans to circle around.

We moved slow through the cars, searching for a way through but I can't see clearly from here, so I found two footholds on the bike that won't melt my boots or break anything and stood up.

"What're you doin?" Daryl glanced over his shoulder before glancing up, then back at the road.

Haven't you ever heard of bird's eye view, Daryl?

I looked around from my new vantage point, using Daryl's shoulders to stabilize myself and allowing my knees to bend and absorb shock with the bike's movement.

Not the safest thing in the world but a lot better than getting off and going through here on foot. Who knows what could be hiding behind these cars.

It's weird though, I don't see any walkers. All these cars and not a single walker...It puts me on edge.

"See anythin'?" Daryl asked, avoiding debris on the asphalt.

A gap big enough for the RV caught my vision and I tapped Daryl's shoulder, pointing.

He nodded and I sat back down as he began to circle back.

Coming up along the driver side of the RV, Daryl stopped as Dale leaned out the window.

"See a way through?"

I nodded and Daryl jerked his head to let Dale know to follow. He circled the RV and got back in front, following the same path we did before, aside from opting to take the larger gaps this time.

The first time through wasn't so bad but this is making my skin crawl now. I'm even more anxious going through a second time, even though we cleared it, because if we somehow missed something huge, we can't just zip outta here.

We'll be trapped between the RV and this sea of abandon cars, and we don't have a lot of protection from whatever—

A loud pop behind us made me jump and snap my head to the side, looking over my shoulder to find out what was going on.

Smoke spewed out of the front of the RV, while the engine sputtered. The RV stopped and Daryl drifted forward a few feet before stopping as well and turning off the motorcycle.

My foot touched the ground and I swung my leg over, standing up. The asphalt felt weird under my boots after riding for so long.

My legs feel almost numb, like they're still vibrating from the engine but at least I can finally stretch; and stretch I did.

I linked my fingers and pulled my arms all the way up and as far back as I could without falling over.

The deep muscle in my shoulders stretched, relieving the tension, and the sore stiffness just melted away. Running down to restore feeling into my legs.

Releasing my fingers, I rolled my shoulders and stretched my arms individually before grabbing my backpack and heading back towards the RV.

"Okay, that was dumb." Dale looked around, while I pulled my arms through the bag straps.

Daryl caught up to me a second later and as soon as I stopped, he started digging through the back of an open car.

"Can't find a radiator hose here" Shane looked around. I'm not sure if that was supposed to be sarcastic or not.

"There's a whole buncha stuff we could find." Daryl dug through a bag he found in the trunk.

"Syphon more fuel from these cars for a start." T-Dog walked past me and I turned to follow over to another car just next to Daryl.

"Maybe some water" Carol suggested hopefully. Water should be our priority in terms of resource gathering, but fuel is equally as valuable now— maybe even more so.

"Food" Glenn chimed in.

I pulled a golf club out of the backseat of the car and swung it at a rock, sending the pebble sailing into the forest, just yards from the edge of the road.

"This is a graveyard." I looked at Lori who looks like she's gonna be sick.

"I don't know how I feel about this."

I looked at Daryl and seems like we're thinkin' the same thing: Is she serious?

This could be a gold mine, a damn buffet. And it's not like these people need this stuff anymore. No one's gonna miss it and we need it.

I get why this may not sit well, I do, but morality takes a backseat to survival. It has to, or there won't be anyone left to distinguish the difference.

"Alright people, look around. Gather what you can." Shane instructed. At least he has some common sense left.

I shrugged it off, not wanting to hold anything against her. She's had the cosiest -before- life of most everyone here. In fact, most of us from what I understand, don't have the luxury to think about death as sorrowful. Before or now.

Some of us, I glanced back at Daryl, might be better prepared for this world than others; but in truth, we could benefit from some to remind us there is a difference. And where the line is.

I glanced at Lori, and Dale. Glenn, Rick. I don't understand how through all of this, their moral compasses have remained on the right track but I'd be lying if I said I don't envy it.

I went to do what I do best; wander off to find something interesting, useful, or preferably both.

Survival has always come before morality for me but I don't believe I've strayed. If I have, I don't remember.

All I can do, I guess is...keep going and hope my compass still points north.

I wandered a lot further than everyone else, peeking into cars until I found one that caught my attention. There are bodies in some of them and I tapped on a few of the windows but they're not walkers. Just dead.

I'm supposed to be searching through cars like the others but I'm doing a walker check first. I'd rather no surprises, or at the very least an advanced warning.

I crouched down next to a car and pulled out my tool pack from my bag.

I can probably jiggle this one open. I can't remember the last time I did unlocked a car though. It must've been...I don't know, high school?

I chose my picks and slid them into the keyhole. It took a minute or two but the door unlocked and I opened it.

Footsteps caught my ear and I pulled my knife. My eyes caught on Daryl and T-Dog who were looking at me strangely.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" T-Dog stared at me. I glanced down at the lock picks in my hand before smiling and waving my hand as nonchalant as possible.

"Damn, you just full'a surprises, ain't you?" T-Dog shifted.

I think it best if I don't share that particular experience. I wonder what happened to that kid. He got transferred after he was arrested for the third time.

He told me to keep practising and I'd get it eventually -which I did- but damn maybe he was right about keeping my skill sharp. You really never do know when picking a lock will come in handy.

Daryl busted open a car's gas cap with a crowbar, jolting me back to the present and T-Dog began syphoning fuel from the car.

I reached into the back and opened the back door of the car I'd chosen and grabbed the bag off the backseat; the bag responsible for my getting into the car in the first place.

Daryl walked past me and went to another car while I dug through this one.

The bag had been what I was after but there was nothing useful in it. And I had such high hopes for this bad boy.

I moved to the driver's seat and reached over to the glove box, to test my luck.

It seems luck is being suspiciously gracious to me today.

I pulled the compass out and whipped the dust off the face with my thumb. Pursing my lips I produced a low whistle.

I held the compass up eye level. Shiny. Somebody doesn't— didn't skimp on the survival gear. This is the nicest compass I've ever seen.

T-Dog grabbed my leg but he was covered in blood and I jolted, ready to bash his face in with this damn compass.

"We gotta go"

He pulled me out of the car but while I was checking our 6, T-Dog was already ahead of me.

I went after him, trying to figure out what the Hell was going on and a walker stumbled out right in front of me.

It was facing the other way, so it didn't see me as I veered right and ducked behind a truck.

I moved towards the back of the end of the truck so I could see around it and walkers were everywhere, stumbling right past me. I must be downwind if they haven't noticed me when we're this close.

Cautiously, I slipped under the guard rail behind me and slid down the small hill as quiet as I could manage. I made it to the bottom, quick scanning the treeline before I ducked into the forest.

That was too close. Where did T-Dog go— I swear to God T if you're not okay, I'll kill you myself. That goes for you too Daryl. Wherever you are.

Watching the walkers trudge along the road from the treeline was nerve-wracking. Every second I wanted to run through the forest alongside them and find out where T-Dog ran to and if he was okay. Where Daryl was, and the others too but that's a surefire way to get myself killed. Then I'm no good to anyone, so I waited out of sight until I hadn't seen one in several minutes.

Careful in slipping out of the forest and back up to the road, I made my way back towards the RV, without so much as a sound; looking for anyone, listening to every sound to indicate where someone might be— especially if they're in trouble.

When I got back to the RV, relief dropped my shoulders from their tense state. Everyone was back there.

Daryl spotted me coming up and motioned for me to follow him. Most of the others looked towards me and relief flashed through their faces.

I didn't consider they may have been just as worried about me as I was about them.

I jumped the guardrail as Glenn, Shane, Rick, and Daryl were headed into the forest and I slid down the grassy hill, catching up. I jogged up next to them and fell into step beside Daryl.

What's goin on? What are we doing venturing off into the forest, just the five of us?


	20. Chapter 20

"You sure this is the spot?" Daryl asked Rick, looking under a fallen tree in the creek bed Rick's lead us to.

"I left her right here." Rick stated.

"I drew the walkers way off in that direction up the creek." he motioned, before bracing his hands on his knees.

"Without a paddle— seems where we've landed." the water lapped at the back of my legs as Daryl moved behind me, looking off into the forest.

How did this happen? How did we let this happen? Why did you run for the forest, Sophia?

6 people less than 50 feet from her, she was right smack in the middle of the majority of the group and she still gets chased into the forest.

It took us longer to get out here than expected. She could be getting farther and farther away every second we waste.

The water swished around my calves as I moved, keeping a sharp look out of the other side of the creek, so Daryl and Rick can focus on tracking.

I chewed on my lip, tightening and loosening my grip on my knives as I scanned the treeline; every small movement I caught having two separate reactions. One, hope that it's Sophia. The other, dread that it's a walker.

Shane and Glenn are up on the bank, keeping watch from the way we came.

It's almost unsettling how quiet it is out here after what's happened in the last hour alone. Even more so with how dangerous these woods are. I wouldn't have expected them to be so infested with walkers but the numbers are dwindling every minute. Like they're deserting the area.

If only that were true. Although any place where not even walker's would stick around, I'm not sure I'd like to be at the center of.

"She was gone by the time I got back here." Rick's boots swished the water around and splashed the back of my legs as he came up next to me.

"I figured she just took off and ran back to the group. I told her, go that way. And keep the sun on her left shoulder." I glanced over my shoulder to see where he was pointing; almost directly at Glenn.

I took a couple steps back towards them as Daryl went over to the bank.

"Hey, short round, why don't you step off to one side? You're muckin' up the trail"

"Assumin' she knows her left from her right." Shane chimed in.

"Shane, she understood me fine." Rick went on the defensive.

I stepped back again and put my hand on Rick's shoulder.

I know you feel this is your fault, Rick, but fighting won't help us find her. She doesn't need that right now, she needs us to work together.

"Kid's tired and scared, man. She had her a close call with two walkers. Gotta wonder how much of what ya said, stuck."

"Got clear prints right here. She did like you said, headed back to the highway." Daryl spoke up before this could turn into a full blown argument.

"Let's spread out, make our way back." Daryl reached up, taking Shane's outstretched hand.

"She couldn't have gotten far." Shane helped him up out of the creek.

My boots splashed in the water as I went over and Daryl held out his hand for me, helping me up the 4 foot muddy ledge before he took point.

"Hey, we gonna find her. She'll be tuckered out, hidin' in a bush somewhere." Shane helped Rick behind me as we started moving again.

* * *

I kept a lookout for walkers with Glenn just behind Daryl so he could focus on tracking, while Shane and Rick watched our 6.

It feels a little strange, watching the front and them watching the back. It's like our roles have reversed.

How is it though, that between every one of us, Daryl is the only one who can actually track? How is that possible?

This is Georgia for cripes sake. We have a total of 1 person who has this skill?

Daryl crouched in front of me, leaning on his crossbow.

"She was doin' just fine till right here. All she had to do was keep goin'" he looked up, following some invisible line the rest of us can't see. At least, I hope I'm not the only one who can't see it.

"She veered off that way" he pointed into the trees.

"Why would she do that?" I glanced over my shoulder at Glenn.

I love you Glenn, but sometimes you can be pretty thick.

"Maybe she saw something, spooked her, made her run off." Shane suggested, crouching next to Daryl.

"Walker?" Glenn asked, gripping his/Shane's shotgun a little tighter and moving half a step closer to Rick.

"I don' see any other footprints. Just hers" Daryl shook his head, not taking his eyes off the dirt.

I looked around, doing a sweep of the woods around us again. I don't know whether or not I should be relieved or worried that we haven't seen any walkers since we left the highway, but it's becoming a nauseating mix of both in my gut.

"So what do we do? All of us press on?" Shane looked to Rick.

"No, better if you, Glenn, and Eve get back up to the highway. People are gonna start panicking."

Shane stood up, giving Rick his full attention.

"Let them know we're on her trail doing everything we can. But most of all, keep everybody calm." Rick emphasized with his hand.

"I'll keep 'em busy scavenging cars. Think up a few other chores. I'll keep 'em occupied." Shane reassured, before looking at me and Glenn and mumbling "Come on"

I looked down at Daryl as Glenn moved past us, and gave him a 'be careful' look. Last thing we need is our only tracker doing something stupid. We can't afford to lose Sophia, Daryl, and Rick all in the same day. Let alone hours apart.

Daryl nodded as he stood up, giving me almost an identical look before I started after Glenn and Shane, and we split up. Him and Rick through the trees after the trail, and me & the other two back to the highway.

* * *

As soon as we got back, Shane started giving out chores.

Carol was stood at the guard rail and didn't look too thrilled when we came back but Shane was quick to tell her, almost word for word what Rick told him to say.

She looked a little less anxious after hearing Daryl and Rick were still out there, and I don't blame her. If anyone can find Sophia and bring her back safely, it's those two.

Shane recruited Andrea, T, and Glenn to help move cars off the road; clearing enough space so the RV will be able to flip a Uey.

I opted for continuing the search through cars with Lori. I can't handle any task right now that'll let my mind wander. I'll end up in places I shouldn't, and can't afford to be in.

I pulled myself up into the bed of a truck not too far from where Daryl's motorcycle is parked, and started digging through the stuff in the back.

Lori chose a car right behind it, and after glancing at her, I don't think it's for resource purposes.

"Carl"

The boy turned at his mother's voice, halting in his attempt to wander to a car on the other side of the one she was about to raid.

"I want you to stay where I or Eve can see you, okay? I don't want you leaving either of our sides."

I can't blame her for wanting to stick close after the day we've had. In all honesty, it's wise for Carl to be glued to someone's hip for awhile.

"Yes, mom."

Well this truck's a dud. There's nothing but a couple of melted sticks of gum, torn garbage bags, and twigs.

I jumped out of the bed and moved on to the next car, staying close to Lori. Carl stuck closer to me, seeing as how I was going farther out than he was being "allowed" to.

However it doesn't take a psychologist to see how nervous Lori got when I went just a little too far, so I opted for a closer car instead of the truck I'd been tracking towards.

I ruffled Carl's hair as I walked past him, making him swat at my hands but it's the first time I've seen him smile since the walker power-walk marathon that blew through here earlier.

Just as I got the door open, Lori came up to the bumper.

"Eve, Carl, could you come help me with these?"

I nodded and closed the door, following Carl and his mother back to a hood where she'd piled supplies into crates.

Son of the Riddler, where did she find all this? There must be 6 crates here.

Am I just bad at picking cars?

Lori stacked a crate on top of another and handed them to me carefully. They aren't heavy but heavier than I thought they'd be. I waited until Carl and she both had their hands full too before weaving between cars, heading back towards the RV.

When we got back, I set the crates down in the large space the other's have managed to clear; just opposite of where Dale's working on the RV engine.

I watched as Andrea and Shane used the Cherokee to move a red sudan off the road, into the ditch between the highways. It hit another car's bumper with a loud grating of metal, triggering my instinct look around and make sure it wasn't heard by anything.

I'm not liking this location so much. It's too exposed, we've already been attacked here once. As far as I'm concerned it's proved how dangerous it is to be here, more than enough.

I don't fancy the idea of being here any longer than we need to.

"Why aren't we all out there looking? Why are we moving cars?" I looked over at Carol, next to the RV.

When did she leave the guard rail?

"We have to clear enough room so I can get the RV turned around as soon as it's running." Dale answered. "Now that we have fuel, we can doubleback to a bypass that Glenn flagged on the map."

"Going back's gonna be easier than trynna get through this mess." Shane came up, tossing his shotgun into his other hand and spinning it till the barrel tapped the back of his elbow.

He really likes to do that. I've never seen him hold that shotgun without doing that. Not once.

"We're not going anywhere till my daughter gets back." Carol stepped forward.

"Hey, that goes without saying." Couldn't have said it better myself, Lori.

"Look, Rick and Daryl, they're on it, okay? Just a matter of time." Sometimes I forget Shane was a cop, but just now, it really showed.

Glenn came and stood next to me and Andrea tossed him a water bottle as she came up behind Carol.

"Can't be soon enough for me. I'm still freaked out from that herd that passed us by, or whatever you'd call it." she unscrewed her bottle and took a drink.

I watched Carol walk back to the guardrail to continue staring at the treeline.

"Yeah, what was that? All of them just marching along like that." Glenn glanced at me as if I'd have the answer.

"Herd. That sounds about right." Shane zoned out on the asphalt for a moment.

"Oh we've seen it. It's like the night camp got attacked. Just a wandering pack only fewer."

I glanced at Andrea who shifted with her gaze trained on the ground. I gave Shane a look and he glanced over, realizing what he'd said.

"Okay" he let a stiff exhale slip. Shane cleared his throat, "Come on, people. We still got a lot to do. Let's stay on it. Let's go, come on." he started moving and just like that all the busy bees went back to work.


	21. Chapter 21

"Carl, I'm taking this back. I want you to stay with Eve okay?"

"Okay, mom."

I leaned out of the car I was in and watched Carl make his way to me from the car Lori had been digging through behind me.

I guess she trusts me to look after him. Since when did I become the babysitter though?

I don't particularly mind having him around, but kids don't do well with silence in my experience. Now babies are a different story. Kids too young to understand are easy to please.

Carl talked and I paid attention but he kept forgetting I don't answer the same way the others do. That didn't seem to deter him though. He just kept on keeping on.

I'll tell you what though, this kid is one resilient little twerp. All this happening around him and he's still curious about the world. He is definitely his father's son.

I watched Carl out of the corner of my eye while I dug through a suitcase I'm pretty sure belonged to a very lonely dude, judging by the amount of adult dvd's.

Seriously, who would think their adult films collection is more important to take in an apocalyptic situation than I don't know, say, a water bottle? A lighter, kitchen knife, food, rope maybe. You know, just, the essentials for survival.

I stopped what I was doing for a minute and listened to the silence.

He's being unusually quiet...What is he up to?

Dropping the suitcase on the floor, I looked at Carl and watched him jump up on the side of the truck just across from me; Peering through the dusty window.

He started to turn back towards me and I quickly diverted my eyes to the first thing I could find. Unfortunately for me, that happened to be a magazine called "Busty Asian Beauties Freaky Friday edition"

I glanced at Carl, hoping to God he didn't see that, but he was walking around the truck to the other side.

A relieved sigh slipped as I shoved that magazine as far under the seat as I could, out of sight, hoping it would never see the light of day again. Maybe someone will use it as fire kindling one day.

I slipped out of the backseat of the car, and went around the back side of the truck, scanning the area to make sure it's safe, and to make sure Lori's not watching.

I probably shouldn't be letting him do this, but how else is he gonna learn?

Lord knows Lori's not gonna let him do this, and he'll find a way to eventually. I'd rather let him do it here, now, where I can protect him in case something happens, then have him go off and get himself into trouble or worse. Circumstances aren't favorable to us these days. Anything could happen, I don't want Carl to end up out there on his own and not be able to fend for himself…

Sophia flashed through my head. We'll find her, and as soon as we do I'm gonna teach both her and Carl how to hide, and if I can get away with it, how to fight.

With a healthy cautiousness, I watched Carl grab the driver's side handle and jerk it open, jumping back with the door.

The body in the driver's seat didn't move -aside from the arm dropping, seeing as the door no longer supported it- as I knew it wouldn't.

If that corpse had been a walker, it wouldn't have stayed quiet while I was in the car next to it making noise. In other words, if it were live, I'd have killed it by now.

Carl stared at it in slight disgust for a moment, before moving closer. I did another quick check around, to make sure we hadn't drawn any unnecessary attention from either walkers or the much more vicious alternative...mothers. We'll both be in trouble if the latter spot us.

I wonder what he's after in there.

He tugged on something in the body's lap, something in a black leathery case but it didn't budge.

He grabbed the side of the truck and the steering wheel and pulled himself up onto the door ledge, almost climbing inside the cabin to get a better hold on whatever it is.

Errg, I can't see well enough from here.

Glancing around, I moved farther out, swinging out behind Carl so he can't see me and I'm close enough he'll know I'm behind him, but now I can see straight into the cabin.

I watched him tug on it again and again but just as I was about to move closer, there was a snap. Carl shrieked as he fell out of the cabin and I lunged forward, catching his head so he wouldn't crack his skull against the asphalt.

I stared down at him and Carl looked up at me, arms full of a leathery tool holder, with the tip of a shiny new hatchet coming out the top.

Oh for pancakes sake, even Carl found something useful. Damnit, I am bad at picking cars. I seem to be turning over every useless hunk of metal here.

I haven't found anything truly useful since this compass.

That fall was a close call but I couldn't help it. I started laughing. I shouldn't be, this isn't funny. He could've gotten hurt, but— his face! His feet almost went over his head!

Carl sat up, trying not to smile and punched me in the arm. "It's not funny"

I waved my hand while he hit me again, continuing to do so until I stopped laughing.

Ah, I needed that. I haven't laughed like that in a while.

I ruffled his hair, expecting him to swat my hand away but to my surprise he didn't.

I motioned at the tools and stood up, waiting for Carl to pick up the roll, both arms wrapped around it. Sometimes I forget how grown up kids can seem but still be kids. It's a strange phenomenon.

"Can I go show these to Shane?" he looked up at me anxiously and I nodded, watching him run towards a nearby green car Shane was working on.

I think that RV is starting to feel a little crowded inside. Five people crammed inside, and I wasn't even riding with them like I would have if I hadn't ridden with Daryl.

Lori came into my view as I watched Carl, looking like she was panicking.

That's my cue. I darted around the truck and made a beeline to my next vehicle, before she could see me.

I may have not thought that through entirely. Mmmm, not looking forward to the scolding I'm gonna get later for letting Carl do that, but I suppose in the end it was worth it.

We both needed the laugh, I'll take responsibility for that.

* * *

The sun's going down fast. I should probably head back. In the next ten minutes, it'll be dark.

I climbed up on the hood of a car and looked around, finding a path back to the RV that's almost a straight shot.

Jumping down, I started on my way back; Weaving between cars.

I wonder if they're back yet. If they've found her. If they had, someone would've come looking for me by now. Unless, we don't plan to move out tonight, what with how dark it's gotten.

It was dangerous before to drive in the dark, it's even more so now. We could run into another traffic jam, walkers, we could get lost, we could wind up in something we can't get out of.

I hate this...Not being able to do anything. If I knew how to track, I could be out there with them searching for her.

I made my way back and noticed everyone standing by the guardrail. They're back. I picked up my pace, almost running.

Daryl looked over as Rick stepped over the railing, and I came to a stop behind the Officer.

Rick was talking to Carol, and just by the look on her face, I knew.

I looked at Daryl for confirmation but he glanced at his shoes before looking at Carol.

What's that supposed to mean? He didn't shake his head, so she's not dead, right?

"I know this is hard, but I'm asking you not to panic. We know she was out there." Rick gestured behind him at the woods.

"And we tracked her for awhile." Daryl moved forward, up to the railing.

She's not dead. A relieved sigh allowed my tense posture to relax for a moment. Don't scare me like that, Daryl.

"We have to make this an organized effort." Rick stated while everyone moved closer to listen. Carol's on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Daryl knows the woods better than anybody. I've asked him to oversee this."

I glanced at Daryl before Carol's gaze caught my attention. I followed it down to large stains on Daryl's jeans. What is that, mud?

I moved closer, my leg brushing the rusty guardrail.

"Is that— is that blood?" Carol pointed

Daryl looked down, taking half a back, before looking at Rick with the closest thing to panic I've ever seen him have.

"We took down a walker." Rick took attention off Daryl and almost immediately the hunter looked more comfortable. All eyes on him, doesn't sit well with him, never has from what I know.

"Walker? Oh my God" Carol moved back and forth in dismay.

"There was no sign it was ever anywhere near Sophia." Rick assured her.

I moved closer to Daryl, so I could see around Rick, and Daryl stepped closer.

"How can you know that?" Andrea came around Carol's left.

Rick looked at Daryl, his turn to panic, and Daryl stepped forward again. The consternation of the group is almost tangible at this point. It almost makes it hard to breathe.

"We cut the son'a bitch open. Made sure."

Carol deflated right there. Slowly sitting on the guardrail, still breathing like she was on the border of a panic attack.

Rick shifted, taking a step back to give her a little space but she wasn't done with him.

Carol looked up at him, hate in her eyes.

"How could you leave her out there, to begin with? How could you just leave her!?"

"Those two walkers were on us" Rick leaned down to her eye-level again. Shane came up behind Rick and I stepped over the guardrail, moving next to Daryl, so Shane could take my spot.

"I had to draw them off. It was her best chance." Rick explained.

"Sounds like he didn't have a choice, Carol." Shane backed Rick up, like he's no doubt done a hundred times before.

"How was she supposed to find her way back on her own? She's just a child. She's just a child."

Rick crouched in front of Carol.

"It— It was my only option. The only choice I could make." Rick looked her in the eyes. He's taking this personally, isn't he.

"I'm sure nobody doubts that." Shane sat against the railing, next to Carol.

Daryl shifted closer to me, both of us glancing at each other. I watched Carol struggling with the most painful thing in history; A suffocating feeling spreading through in my tightening chest.

Lori wrapped her arm around Carol, rubbing her shoulder as mothers' do to comfort.

"My little girl got left in the woods." she whimpered before looking away from Rick.

The atmosphere grew heavier with every second. I'm surprised Rick was able to stand. Although he looked as if he was gonna fall as soon as he did.

He glanced at me and Daryl before moving away from Carol, towards the RV.

I can see almost see the dread weighing over him. I stepped back over the railing, Daryl following after me, and the others soon after. Everyone aside from Lori, and Andrea moving back towards the RV to let Carol do whatever it is she needs to right now.

What are you supposed to do in a situation like this?

I watched Rick head off into the sea of abandon cars, tempted to follow him but ultimately I pulled myself up on the hood of a car near Daryl's motorcycle. He needs to be alone right now.

Daryl came and sat next to me after a few minutes. He didn't say anything, but the disquietude around us didn't dissipate. It got worse with every second.

It isn't unusual for their to be silence between us, but not like this. Heavy, weighing on my shoulders.

It isn't awkward or tense, but it's not the usual comfortable either.

I looked at him, while he stared at the end of his crossbow intensely. I've never seen him like this before. Not even when he found out Merle was gone.

I don't know what to do. Should I leave him be? Try my bedside manner? What the Hell do I do?

He's worried about Sophia— I am too, don't get me wrong, we all are but I don't know what to do about it.

What are you supposed to do in the middle of an apocalypse when a child you've been with from the beginning goes missing?

Sophia's like a niece to me...We were supposed to protect her. She was supposed to be safe with us.

How are we gonna help her now?

This is doing my head in.

I growled in frustration, rubbing my eyes with my fingers and leaned my elbows on my knees.

I looked over at Daryl, watching him scowl at the world. He looks so tired, but I doubt any of us will get any sleep tonight.

No. Enough of this.

"She's gonna be fine." I laid back on the windshield, crossing my arms behind my head, training my gaze on the sky.

The overcast is covering most of the stars, but at least it doesn't smell like smog out here. In the countryside the air is cleaner than it was in Atlanta. It smells damp, and earthy. But not the dusty smell of dirt I'm used to.

Daryl shifted beside me, I assume to look at me.

The cool breeze blew strands of my hair over my face, some tickling my cheek, while others got stuck in the cracks of my lips.

"She'll be okay. She has to be..." I didn't want that to sound like I'm convincing myself, but we don't always get what we want.


	22. Chapter 22

The cold air bit at my nose while I watched the forest from the top of the RV. Only the closest trees are visible in the moonlight.

A chill ran down my spine as the breeze blew my hair away from my neck. I pulled my knees tighter into my chest, rubbing my legs through my black jeans.

If only the moon gave off heat like the sun. In the sunlight the black keeps me warm but in the dark it makes it easier to hide. At night, I'm near impossible to see if I don't wanna be seen.

Plus your brain is built to filter out black, and focus on white, shimmers, things that move, and red.

I wear black for more than just personal liking but it would be nice to have something else once in awhile. I miss wearing shorts. Skiing. Summer— swimming.

I'd kill a hundred walkers for a churro right now.

...Even more— however many it would take, to find Sophia.

Why did you run away?

You could have run towards the others, Rick— your mom...Why'd you run to the forest?

I rubbed my forehead against my knees before sitting up and taking a look around through my night vision goggles. I can't see as far as I'd like, barely ten feet into the treeline. What's the point of having up to 500 feet of viewing distance if you can't see past the vegetation?

I looked up the road, being able to see all the way to the end of the cars. It's hard to distinguish bodies from walkers in the dark so I've just been looking for movement.

Most of it's false alarms. Small animals, leaves, trash blown by the wind.

My eyes wandered to a plastic baby doll on the road for the hundredth time tonight.

I've been sitting up here for hours and every 20 minutes, like clockwork, I've ended up looking at that doll. It doesn't look like Sophia's but it's enough just being a doll to remind me of her.

I can see her carrying hers. Clinging to it when she's scared, crying and burying her face in it, talking to it, looking at it and hoping someone finds her— someone chases away the dark.

Where did you go, Kiddo?

Sighing, I got fed up with just sitting here. I stood up, and began to pace.

Why didn't she just keep going? Why'd she change direction? Why?

Alright, alright. Twelve year old girl, alone in the woods.

Rick's just left her alone and lead the walkers away. What's the first thing I would do?

Do like he said, head back to the highway.

Even if not right away, it doesn't matter if she left right after him or not, either way she didn't make it back before him and she was gone by the time we got there. So she had like a half hour head start on us. At least.

Everything was fine up until she changed course for no reason.

Why would she do that? What would make her deviate?

I chewed on my fingernail, spinning on my heel each time I reached near the edge of the RV's roof.

Come on, think. Think.

I ran my hands over my head, pulling my hair back, only to have it blow back over my shoulders.

I jumped at an abrupt rustling and whirled towards the trees. I looked through my goggles at the green landscape, searching for the source of the noise.

Something scurried out from behind a tree, then another following it. I didn't figure out what they were until I saw the tails.

I huffed, groaning out a sigh. I really hate squirrels.

I relaxed, shaking my head and looked around. Anymore squirrels wanna chose now to scare me? Make me jump like a timid cat—

I froze mid-turn. Realization dawning over me like fog clearing with warm sunlight.

Timid. Sophia's timid.

She shakes like a leaf being more than ten feet from someone she trusts.

Daryl said there were no footprints— no walkers— but she wouldn't think about that. She'd bolt at the slightest sound.

I touched my cold hand against my warm forehead.

God damn it! I'm such an idiot!

I flung my arms down so hard, my elbows and shoulder popped like breaking twigs.

A squirrel would be enough to scare her, send her running— she already had the life scared out of her, being chased away from her mom by flesh-eating monsters through the woods.

It could've been anything in that bush.

She wouldn't have thought twice about running. All she had for directions was the sun over the shoulder thing Rick told her but the sun moves.

The later it gets, the farther it would've pushed her off course. She'd keep it over her left shoulder, and it would just push her farther and farther away.

Cheesus, by mid-afternoon she'd be so off course there's no chance she could've made her own way back by then...

I rubbed my eyelids with my fingers. Attempting to massage the exhausted frustration away.

"Yer still up 'ere?"

I looked over and watched Daryl climb the last bit onto the RV roof.

"I thought Glenn was supposed to be on watch by now."

I shrugged, returning my eyes to the woods. I could feel Daryl watching me but I really don't feel like explaining myself right now.

* * *

I rubbed my eyelids with my fingers. Attempting to massage the exhausted frustration away.

"Yer still up 'ere?"

I looked over and watched Daryl climb the last bit onto the RV roof.

"I half expected ya to still be up lookin' at the sky or somethin' but I could'a sworn Glenn was supposed to be on watch by now."

Well, you're not wrong but I didn't wake him up, so technically it's still my watch.

I shrugged, returning my eyes to the woods. I could feel Daryl watching me but I really don't feel like trying to explain myself right now so I just sat down.

Daryl sat next to me, motioning for the goggles. I handed them over without a second thought, which startled me a little. Since when did I start sharing my stuff with him?

If I could, I'd be out there right now looking for her. I can't imagine how scared she is. I don't know if she's afraid of the dark or not, but it's a good bet she is, and is out there surrounded by it.

"'Ey, yer the one who told me she's gonna be fine." I jumped at his sudden agitation. "Don't go doubtin' that just a couple hours after ya said it."

I stared at him stunned, for a solid minute before I snorted. My lips giving way to an easy smile. I feel like I just got smacked upside the head.

I smiled as an apology but he's right. I shouldn't be doubting my own damn advice. Sophia's more resourceful than given credit for.

Hell, I was like her at one point in my life. Everyone was.

There aren't a lot of walkers in this area from what we know, there's every chance she's alright, and just hold up somewhere waiting for us to find her.

"You should try ta get some sleep-" I'm not so sure I can. "-I'll take watch." Daryl set the goggles down in front of us.

I didn't move and 30 seconds later, Daryl elbowed me.

Oh geez—

He's giving me that threatening look. I haven't been on the receiving end of this in a long time. Not gonna lie, it's still a little intimidating.

"Go. It won't do anyone any good if yer dead on yer feet tomorrow."

Wow Daryl, that was almost nice. But I could say the same for you.

I took a look up to the half-cloudy cold night sky before sighing, finally giving in to the tension in my shoulders. You think I could trick someone into giving me a shoulder massage? Glenn would probably be an easy target.

Finally giving into the burn of his gaze, I stood up using Daryl's shoulder to get to my feet. I did it without thinking but I'm surprised he didn't flinch like he usually does to unexpected contact.

I waved goodnight as he watched me go to the ladder and look around before I climbed down.

I didn't realize how truly tired I am until my feet hit the asphalt and my knees almost buckled absorbing the shock.

Hang in there, Sophia. We're comin' to get ya.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** For those of you who have read chapter 22(previous chp) before 5/15/2017, it has been rewritten. There were a few errors and I needed to make a slight story alteration. Sorry for the inconvenience.

* * *

"Everybody takes a weapon" Rick dropped the black tool bag Carl found yesterday onto the hood of Carol's car.

Yeah I'll pass. My own work just fine, thanks.

"These aren't the kind of weapons we need. What about the guns?" Andrea asked impatiently, while others stepped up one by one to choose their weapon.

"We've been over that. Daryl, Rick, Eve, and I are carrying. We can't have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles." Shane fiddled with his bag, trying to close it up after getting his piece out.

"It's not the trees I'm worried about" Andrea sassed.

"Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, herd happens to be passing by. You see then it's game over for all of us. So you need to get over it." Shane slung his backpack over his shoulder.

"The idea is to take the creek up 'bout 5 miles." Daryl spoke up before Andrea could argue again.

"Chances are she'll be by the creek. It's her only landmark." Daryl started towards his motorcycle.

I glanced at Glenn and bit my lip to stop a rising snicker. He's grinning at that hooked hatchet he chose like a serial killer.

"Stay quiet, stay sharp. Keep space between you but always within sight of each other." Rick instructed.

"Alright everybody assemble your packs." Shane really knows how to get the bees busy.

I made my way to the motorcycle with Daryl and picked up my backpack, stuffing my newly refilled water bottle in the largest pocket.

"Rick's probably gonna stick up front, you gonna be okay coverin' the back with Shane?" Daryl spoke low enough that only I could hear him.

What? My eyebrows knit together, one rising higher than the other. Why would he ask me that?

I glanced at Shane, briefly remembering the CDC. When I first saw him with that shotgun.

I shifted uncomfortably, accidentally bumping shoulders with Daryl.

Oh thanks, Daryl. I needed that delightful reminder of my first panic attack in almost three years.

I almost didn't nod but it'd be stupid not to. What happened back there...was an anomaly. A one time thing. This isn't about him or me, or anyone, or how I feel personally. All that matters right now, is finding this little girl. Comfort should be the last thing on my mind.

Daryl watched me for a few seconds longer before nodding. I wonder why he does that. Always waiting after getting his answers. Just watching before acknowledging— or straight up walking away.

"Andrea, I'm beggin' you don't put me in this position."

My attention was drawn to the RV where Andrea and Dale stood, but mark my words, one of these days I'm gonna ask him about it.

"I'm not going out there without my gun. I'll even say please." Andrea cocked her hips to the side.

Is she thick or something? How many times are gonna have to go over this?

"I'm doin' this for you." Dale shook his head.

"No, Dale, you're doing it for you. You need to stop."

Dale remained silent, putting some tools on the step just inside the RV side doorway.

"Oh what do you think's gonna happen, I'm gonna stick it in my mouth and pull the trigger the moment you hand it to me?" When did this escalate to suicide?

"I know you're angry at me. That much is clear." No shit, Dale. But, hey, is there any way you guys can do this later? We've got bigger fish to fry right now.

"But if I hadn't done what I did, you'd be dead now."

"Jenner gave us an option. I chose to stay." Andrea countered.

"You chose suicide!" Dale argued

"So what's that to you? You barely know me."

Really people? Come on! You're choosing now to bitch this fit?

"I know Amy's death devastated you-"

"Keep her outta this." Andrea snapped. "This is not about Amy. This is about us."

Forget about your damn gun! You'll be fine, if I can get by without using mine, you can live without yours for one day.

"And if I decided I had nothing left to live for, who the Hell are you to tell me otherwise?" Andrea's voice strained, like she was about to cry but too angry to actually do it. "To force my hand like that."

"I saved your life." Dale shrunk a little, not so sure of his reasoning anymore by the sound of it.

"No, Dale. I saved yours. You forced that on me. I didn't want your blood on my hands and that is the only reason I left that building." You'd be dead, why would you care? What makes you think you could care by that point?

"What did you expect? What, I'd have some kind of epiphany? Some life affirming-catharsis?" Andrea I know you're upset, and you have a right to be, but now is not the time for this.

"Maybe just a little gratitude." Dale didn't sound too sure of his answer.

"Gratitude?" Andrea's really perfected that incredulous way of pronunciation.

"I wanted to die my way, not torn apart by drooling freaks. That was my choice. You took that away from me, Dale."

"But-"

"But you know better." Andrea cut him off before he'd barely gotten a sound out.

"All I wanted after my sister died was to get out of this endless horrific nightmare we live everyday. I wasn't hurting anyone else. You took my choice away, Dale. And you expect-..." Andrea shook her head, a tear finally slipping from her eye, "gratitude?"

There was a long lull of silence and I glanced around at everyone else, getting anxious. By now all eyes were on those two. The entire group spectating their argument.

"I don't know what to say."

Apparently you do, Dale. That's more than I would have come up with.

"I'm not your little girl. I'm not your wife, and I'm sure as Hell not your problem. That's all there is to say." Andrea retaliated.

Speaking of little girl's, can we please go now that you're done tearing Dale a new one?

We're burning daylight Sophia doesn't have.

Andrea moved around Dale and as soon as she came towards me & Daryl, I turned on my heel and headed for the guardrail.

* * *

I stayed near the back, as far away from Andrea and Carol as I could.

Those two shouldn't be out here with us, they're toxic right now. I understand why Carol is out here, Sophia's her little girl but she's too emotionally invested to make a rational decision, and Andrea's a time bomb. A bitchy, self-centered, narrow-minded time bomb.

I didn't get along with her really before Amy…now I can barely tolerate her.

I mean, I understand why she is the way she is but I just— I can't think like that.

I have given her all the leniency I'm capable of. I wouldn't wish her harm, and we are friends(in a sense), but for the love of God. Please, save the pity party for a time when a little girl's life isn't at stake.

* * *

After almost an hour of searching, Carl drifted to the back of the group with Shane and I.

"Shane, look." Carl held up a sharp pocket knife.

"Dad said I could carry it" Shane gave an over-exaggerated sigh as Carl began rambling and I found myself glaring at him. "and mom said as long as I was—"

"Keep it down." Shane snapped. "We're looking for Sophia. You need to focus on the task."

I was floored by Shane's attitude towards Carl, stopping dead in my tracks.

Carl looked like a kicked puppy, eyes downcast. Barely picking his feet up with each step.

I looked at Lori who stepped towards us and we shared a look of equal outrage before her eyes turned towards her son and softened.

"Got to keep up" she pulled him forward up by her, as a protective mother should.

"I am" Carl mumbled.

Shane stopped, moving to look at something we'd just past as the others continued and I stood there, staring at him.

He looked at me and as soon as he walked past me, I smacked him upside the head with my free hand.

He glared back at me but I grabbed a fist ful of his shirt, slamming him against a tree.

"I don't know what's going on with you, but if you ever speak to Carl like that again, Sophia won't be the only one lost in the woods." I hissed.

My eyes bore into his until he knew I was dead serious. He shifted his gun in his hand, nodding, before I let him go and made my way back to the others just a few paces ahead.

I didn't stay at the back, instead making my way up to the front. I can't be alone next to Shane right now, or I might do much more threaten.

Why can't these people just get their shit together for ten minutes?

I came up next to Rick, brushing Carol's shoulder as I passed her. He looked at me as if something was wrong but I shook my head once, just to reassure my appearing upfront isn't something to be concerned about.

Daryl stopped, coming around some leafy green branches and crouched. It was natural for me to do so almost simultaneously but I watched Rick motion to the others to get down as he did himself. I forgot they don't have these instincts.

I followed his gaze through the trees to a green and grey tent. It almost blends in with the surrounding forest but the red cooler next to it makes it almost impossible to miss.

"She could be in there." Shane mumbled, coming up on Rick's other side, not bothering to crouch.

"Could be a whole bunch of things in there." Daryl grumbled as he rose, moving forward cautiously, crossbow raised.

I followed, taking my knives in-hand looking through the surrounding trees to avoid any nasty surprises as we got closer.

Once we were only a few yards from it, Daryl stopped, motioned for Rick and Shane to stay here, then looked at me and point to the right side of the tent.

I nodded and he pulled his own knife as we moved closer; Me to the right, him to the left.

The zipper to the tent was unzipped, not enough to let an adult through but I'll bet a child could no problem.

Daryl gently set his crossbow down on the ground, holding his knife ready while I moved around the side of the tent, looking out at the woods behind it.

I moved back around to the front and watched Daryl move away from the entrance. My guess is he was trying to look inside without touching it, just in case.

He glanced at me, moving towards the other side. I shook my head, and crouched as low as I could to peek through the door while he carefully lifted the edge of the rain cover to see through the window.

I can see something that looks like the foot of a camping chair but I can't tell.

I looked at Daryl and he looked at Rick, exaggerating a shrug to convey our findings of zip.

Rick looked over his shoulder and said something I couldn't make out to the group staying farther back, then Carol came up next to him.

"Call out softly. If she's in there, yours is the first voice she should hear."

Carol nodded, looking towards the tent. Daryl and I got ready for whatever comes out of this tent, but something doesn't feel right about this tent.

Not for this at least.

"Sophia, sweetie" Carol did exactly as Rick told her to.

"Are you in there? Sophia it's mommy."

I shifted my weight from foot to foot, ready for what could happen any second but the longer I waited, the more anxious I got. Nothing's happened yet.

Daryl glanced at me, the same uneasy feeling twisting my gut is twisting his from the looks of it.

"Sophia. We're all here, baby. It's mommy."

Daryl glanced back at Rick and them and shook his head.

Rick came forward, as did Shane, coming up right behind us as Daryl reached for the tent zipper and began pulling it as slow as he could, keeping the noise to a minimum.

Here we go

He unzipped it far enough to get inside but when he pulled the flap out of the way, I almost puked. He covered his mouth with the back of his knife hand, coughing.

The wall of stench billowing out of the tent like invisible smoke, was so putrid my eyes began to water.

I coughed into my elbow, Shane and Rick just behind me coughing as well.

I had to force myself to breathe through my nose, hoping to speed up getting accustomed to the smell. I was right about the camping chair but the body rotting in it answers what these smells are.

Another few nauseating seconds and Daryl moved inside, the flap dropping closed behind him, leaving the rest of us coughing outside.

He has the strongest stomach I've ever seen.

The smell isn't so bad for me anymore, but Shane and Rick are still struggling.

"Daryl?" Carol called

I can hear little clicking noises but I can't place them. If something was wrong though, we'd know by now.

"Daryl?" Carol called again.

I glanced back at her, just before the tent rustled and out-stepped Daryl.

"Ain't her"

I straightened up, tangible relief sweeping across all the faces around us. Including my own.

"What's in there?" Andrea asked, with a little morbid curiosity. Not that I'm one to talk.

"Some guy. Did what Jenner said. Opted out." Daryl picked up his crossbow, checking it and slung it over his shoulder. "Ain't that what he called it?"

I moved to take a step but mid-turn the sound of bells had all of us on alert. They're distant but there's no mistake.

I turned until they were loudest, Rick coming to the same conclusion at the same moment.

Rick pointed whereas I just took off, assuming they'd follow.


	24. Chapter 24

Everyone followed Rick and I through the woods, the bells getting louder and louder.

The sound is echoing, it's difficult to tell which way they're coming from but Rick and I seem to have a good ear for the direction.

"What direction?" Shane asked as we slowed.

"I think that way. I'm pretty sure." Rick pointed the direction we were headed.

"Dang, it's hard to tell out here" Shane hopped on a log, as if the 2 feet of height would give him better hearing.

"If we hear them, maybe Sophia does too" for the first time since Sophia went missing, I can hear hope in Carol's voice.

"Someone's ringing those bells. Maybe calling others." Glenn suggested.

"Or signaling that they found her." Andrea spoke between pants.

I glanced at Rick, pointing ahead and he gave a nod of agreement.

"She could be ringin 'em herself." Rick stated. "Come on"

I picked up to a jog, right behind Rick and as we got closer, the sound got louder and louder until it stopped.

* * *

I followed Rick out of the treeline, going around him so I could see. In the center of the large clearing in front of us, a rundown church stood.

It's been a few minutes since we heard the bells but they were close when they stopped.

I don't know about you guys, but if I was Sophia and found this place, that's definitely where I'd go.

"That can't be it, there's no steeple—Rick!" Shane called after the deputy as he took off towards the building.

He didn't get ten steps before the rest of us were chasing him.

Just like old times, Daryl, Glenn, Shane, and I were hot on his heels right up to the red doors.

I pulled my knives as Daryl moved past me, going up the steps with Rick.

Rick glanced at the rest of us, most of the group was behind us at the bottom of the steps looking around.

Rick looked at Daryl, nodded, and simultaneously they pushed the doors open.

There were 3 walkers inside, sitting on the benches and they turned to look as soon as the doors opened but they didn't move.

Rick and Daryl moved just inside the doors, Shane moving between them.

I've never seen walkers not lunge before. It's creepy how they're just sitting there but they weren't for long.

Rick holstered his gun and reached behind him, his wife handing him her machete.

Shane did the same, taking the weapon from the person behind him and followed Rick inside.

Daryl handed his crossbow to Glenn, who almost dropped it, as he traded for Glenn's hooked machete. As soon as it was in his hand, Daryl looked at it in his hand.

Rick moved to the left side, Shane down the middle, and Daryl to the right.

I turned and looked out behind us, trusting all of them can kill a single walker without supervision. So I didn't stick around, instead I walked past everyone else, moving around the side to do a perimeter sweep of the church, checking the outside.

If there were walkers in there, just sitting there, chances are Sophia wasn't here.

I don't think anyone's been here in a long time. Long enough for cannibalistic dead people to go idle.

"Sophia!"

A door swung open in front of me and Rick came this close to a knife in the forehead.

So much for being difficult to sneak up on.

He put his hand up as sort of an apology, and a request to lower my blade. I shook my head, lowering my knife and threw him a look.

Jesus Rick, be more careful. He's lucky it was just me out here.

I watched him go back inside before continuing my sweep.

I moved around the backside of the church, looking out at the woods. They're closer to the church back here but still far enough we shouldn't have to worry too much.

We've been walking all day non-stop, this is a good place to take a 5-10 minute break. Reevaluate our strategy a little cause so far we've found two major things Sophia didn't.

Call it intuition but something tells me we're not going the same way she did.

I reached far back corner, about to move around the side, when the bells went off again, startling me into a run.

I ran around the side, seeing Glenn and Daryl at the end, running towards me but looking up at the roof.

I followed their gaze up to a speaker under the lip of the roof. I stopped right next to them, and watched Glenn pull at a box on the side of the church, dismantling the speaker a second later.

"Timer" Daryl panted, out of breath, turning back to the others who just joined us. "It's on a timer"

I sighed, running my hands through my hair, pulling it away from my face. I can practically taste the disappointment.

Cheesus, can you imagine if we found her here? In a church of all places.

I'm not religious, never have been and probably never will be but that...that just might have swayed me to believe there is a god.

"I'm gonna go back in for a bit." Carol went back inside, along with most of the others, and Andrea came over and sat down against the building.

I leaned against the wall next to her, keeping her company. I don't want her to be alone out here either. Just in case.

"Are you really leaving?" That's Lori's voice.

I looked over, but she wasn't in sight. Granted the corner of the church is blocking most of my view.

"Don't you think it's best for all of us" Shane.

"I think it is. What made you decide?"

"Gotta back away. Just tryin' to be the good guy here Lori, even if you don't see it. None of this was intended. I hope you know that. Don't matter as long as I said it."

Am I hearing this right?

"You're just gonna disappear? You're not even gonna tell Rick" Lori's voice got quieter and I moved around Andrea, closer to the edge to hear better.

I never thought of myself as an eavesdropper before, but this isn't the first time I've been a fly on the wall.

"He'd only try to stop me— that's on you. You tell him what you want, or tell him nothing at all. You're his wife."

"And Carl? We dragged him into this" Lori's voice strained.

"I love Carl"

"He thinks you hate him"

"I'm tryna put some distance. I'm tryna make this easier. This ain't easy on any of us Lori; least of all me. I'm the one who loses you." Shane's voice cracked on the last words.

I waited a few seconds, but all I got was footsteps. Sounds like someone's walking away, not sure who though.

I peeked around the corner, spotting Shane standing there alone. So I was right. Lori must've walked away.

I didn't think their...relations were still having kickback like this, after Rick showed up alive back at camp. I mean, I knew things would get complicated sooner or later, but I didn't expect Shane to run away.

Andrea walked past me, out from the side and as soon as I noticed her I did the opposite. I moved back, pressing into the building so Shane wouldn't see me.

I don't think he sees me, but he definitely sees her.

Andrea went after him, after watching him walk away and I quietly slipped into the church.

Inside, I stood against the back wall next to Daryl. Carl looked over at me while Carol prayed to a statue.

In my experience, asking someone else to fix your problems never works, but I can see why some need to.

I've always done things by myself, never asked for someone to be a savior, least of all from a deity I'm not even sure is there. But if I had been religious before this, I don't think I would still be now. Not after this.

Daryl elbowed me as Rick went outside, and we followed him out just a few seconds before everyone else decided to.

I stopped next to a gravestone near the tree everyone else -aside from Daryl- had gathered under.

I'm tempted to hop up and sit on the stone but even I'm not that disrespectful of the dead.

I mean, I don't think the dead care what the living do. They're dead. Why would they give a damn?

But then again, most of them are still walking around, so...it's probably better to show some respect.

Everyone was gathered up outside now.

Daryl next to me, checking his crossbow. I pulled my pack off my shoulder and set it down on top of the stone. I won't sit on it, even though it looks like a freaking bench, but I don't see any harm in setting my backpack down for a minute.

I dug through it until I pulled my water bottle out. I took a few swallows, watching the light shimmer off the clear liquid while I drank. I've always liked how water looks in light. Sunlight in particular.

It's amazing how bright the rays become with just a little bit of translucent liquid.

When I was finished, I screwed the cap back on and raised it up to look at them for a bit longer.

One second it was just beautiful, the next my nose stung and my entire upper body whipped down as I sneezed.

Daryl jumped next to me, nearly aiming his crossbow at me while I recovered.

I looked at him with a smile, trying not to smile too much, or risk actually getting shot with that thing.

Daryl snorted, shaking his head at me.

I tilted my head back a bit, looking over his shoulder, to see several others looking at me, with smiles, a few openly grinning.

I'm glad you all find my sneeze so amusing, but if this is what it takes to get you lot to smile, we're in serious morale trouble.

Shane & Rick have been talking several feet from the rest of us for a while and chose now, after I made half the group almost pee themselves with an innocent biological reaction to sunlight, to come over to everyone with that group meeting vibe.

I don't know how they do that, but now I know what it's like for the others, talking to me.

I moved with Daryl closer to the group, as Shane and Rick stopped in front of everyone.

"Y'all gotta follow the creek bed back. Okay Daryl, you're in charge. Me and Rick are just gonna hang back. Search this area another hour or so, just to be thorough." Shane announced

"Splittin' us up. You sure?" Daryl shifted.

Oh yeah, this is gonna go well.

"Yeah, we'll catch up to you" Shane confirmed

"I wanna stay too." Carl stepped forward. "I'm her friend."

Rick and Shane looked at each other before Rick looked to Lori for a verdict.

"Just be careful, okay?"

"I will" Lori cupped Carl's cheeks.

"When did you start growing up?" she hugged her son, kissing the top of his head.

Rick came forward and kissed his wife, before holding his gun out to her. "You remember how to use it?"

"I'm not taking your gun and leavin' you unarmed" Lori refused the python

"Here. Got a spare" Daryl came forward with another gun, "Take it"

Where did he get that? That's not one of ours.

I didn't realize I'd followed him forward until Lori took the gun and everyone started moving out, me at the back.

I smiled at Carl and gave a small wave, which he returned before we went our separate ways. Be careful, kid.

We hadn't walked 10 feet before Andrea threw a dirty look at Lori. She's not exactly good at hiding her disdain, is she.

This is gonna be a fun walk. All we need now, is awkward sexual tension, some loathing, an argument between best friends, and a dash of betrayal. Then we can bake a drama cake and crown someone Queen.


	25. Chapter 25

I walked at the back of the group, keeping a look out behind us while Daryl lead the way at the front and Glenn, Lori, Andrea, and Carol trudged between us.

I don't know— scratch that, I know _exactly_ why I feel like a school teacher babysitting a bunch of kids on a field trip.

"So this is it?" Carol sat down on the log in front of me, making me stop suddenly before I ran into her. "This the whole plan?"

"Guess the plan is to whittle us down into smaller and smaller groups." Daryl leaned against a tree, while everyone stopped to catch their breath.

"Carrying knives and pointy sticks" Andrea interjected before her gaze shifted to Lori. Oh no

"I see you have a gun."

"Why, you want it?" Lori looked up at her. I watched Lori extend the gun out to Andrea.

"Here, take it. I'm sick of the looks you're giving me."

I'm not sure if she's actually giving it, or daring her to take it. Although it really looks like both. Andrea's mouth was gaping like a fish but she took the gun with a huff because Lori had called her out.

"All of you" Lori sat down on the log, pulling her water bottle out from her backpack.

I haven't been throwing dirty looks, I haven't been looking at any of you.

I thought we were supposed to be keeping our eyes out for Sophia, and signs that someone's been through here. That's what we're doing out here in the first place.

Am I the only one who's actually been looking!?

 _What the actual Hell!?_

"Honey, I can't imagine what you're going through and I would do anything to stop it, but you have gotta stop blaming Rick. It is in your face _every_ time you look at him."

Carol looked at Lori before looking down at her shoes.

"And when Sophia ran, he didn't hesitate did he? Not for a second. I don't know that any of us would have gone after her the way he did." Lori looked at Daryl, "Or made the hard decisions that he had to make, or that anybody could have done it _any_ differently."

Selfish sons a bitches—

"Anybody?" Lori looked around but when she looked at me I put my hands up. I'm not gettin' involved in this BS.

I came out here to find a little girl, not babysit and watch cranky " _adults"_ bitch & whine like spoiled brats.

I walked past Glenn, just so done with all these people's shit, and Daryl threw me a questioning look.

I took off my backpack and dropped it near the base of the tree. Pointing to my eyes then up, I jumped, hooking my hands on a thick low branch. He nodded, glancing up.

I swung my legs similar to a gymnast and pulled myself up. Being careful where I grabbed, I scaled the tree until I was high enough to get a bird's eye view but low enough to be under the canopy of tree tops.

I didn't hear the rest of the conversation below but a minute or so later, Daryl whistled and I looked down to see we were about to move on.

I pointed in the direction we needed to go and Daryl glanced over their before nodding, motioning for me to come down, and leading the group from there while I climbed down.

I was halfway down the tree when a gunshot startled me and my foot missed the branch.

My heart stopped for a split second as my side smashed into the branch full force and the branch I'd been holding onto broke under the sudden weight.

"Eve!"

Hitting one branch after the other on the way down, my hands skidded against the bark, scratching my skin open as I tried to catch hold of _anything_.

The bark disappeared from under my hands and in a split second, I was surrounded by nothing but air for what felt like an eternity. Like when you jump off a high dive, the moment before you're about to hit the water.

Before I knew it I was staring up, gasping; feeling like a cannonball hit me in the back.

Daryl appeared in my vision, followed by Glenn, and Lori.

"Oh my God— oh my god— oh my god— are you okay?" Glenn panicked above me.

That's a fair question.

I struggled to force the air deeper into my lungs but they weren't having it. I'm getting enough to live but I feel like I'm suffocating. Breathing through a coffee-straw.

It hurts like a hornet to the eye but I don't think anything's broken. A sharp pain in my neck kept me from turning my head to look at Daryl.

I swallowed, biting my lip, and slowly reached up to my neck.

As soon as I touched my skin, I flinched away with a hiss. My hand stung and burned like I'd stuck a papercut in a vat of vinegar.

Looking at my hand, I barely recognized it as mine. It looks like the remains of a cat's scratching post and I don't think my other hand looks much better.

"Sit her up" Daryl moved his hand behind my neck, sliding it under my head while Lori moved hers under my arm behind my back, and Glenn grabbed my wrist, and my back.

"Slow" Daryl warned as my shoulders left the ground and more hands were on my back.

They helped me sit up but my ribcage protested severely. Even breathing hurts. I couldn't turn my head more than a centimeter or two without sharp pains deterring my efforts from looking to the left.

I can already feel the bruises forming on my arms and back. I think I landed on a rock...or a _boulder._

"Where does it hurt?" Lori asked. I gave her a 'really' look and she sighed. "Everywhere, then"

"Can you stand up?" Carol asked. I tried to nod but I'm not entirely sure I did, to be honest.

Daryl lifted my arm over his shoulders and Glenn followed suit on my other side. My whole back is almost numb, but I still felt their arms lay across it and it hurt.

Daryl put his other hand on my stomach, taking just a little more of my weight but a little goes a long way. It was enough to get me on my feet.

Standing hurt, even though they did most of the work, and miraculously I think my legs are okay. I'm surprised I didn't snap an ankle or something.

It's a miracle I didn't break something— as far as I know.

How high up was I? 10— 15 feet, maybe 20.

I pulled my hand from Glenn's shoulders and held my side, where my ribs are now throbbing like something's trapped under my skin, trying to get out. That is not a pretty visual.

"Can I?" Lori carefully took the end of my shirt.

I nodded, and she lifted my shirt up where I had hit the branches and from the looks on their faces, I'm guessing it doesn't look good.

"Think you can keep going?" Daryl asked, almost mumbling.

"Uh— is that a good idea?" Glenn eyed my ribs. I don't dare look down. I can feel it, that's enough for me.

Out of sight, out of mind, right? I dearly hope so, cause my back is starting to burn.

"We can't exactly stay 'ere" He's got a point. I can barely see Daryl out of the corner of my eye but I think he's looking around.

I squeezed Glenn's shoulder, even though it stung and nodded, to let him know I'm fine to go on.

All things considered, this could've been a lot worse.

Sweet honey mustard...I could have _died_ from that height. If I'd hit that rock(if it was a rock) any other way than I did…

Yet I don't even have a broken bone —as far as I can tell _._ I've had broken bones before, they don't all feel same but pretty damn close.

It took a moment to get my walking sorted out before Lori picked up my backpack, and we kept moving.

Every time someone moved to help me, I didn't let them. Maybe it's just my own stubbornness talking but I can walk, I don't need help.

I stayed in the middle, just behind Glenn and Daryl since I can't turn my head. At least I did for awhile, at some point I found myself walking in the back again.

It got a little easier to move, I think it was just getting adjusted to the new bruises I've got that slowed me down. Kinda like building muscle, you've gotta tear it and wear yourself out to get stronger.

My legs are fine, my eyes are fine, and there's nothing we can do about the injuries I do have, there's no reason not to keep looking.

I think I've got a massive bruise on my hip though. It's hindering my step a little.

If a walker died every time Daryl glanced back at me, we could all sleep soundly for the rest of our lives.


	26. Chapter 26

"Are you still worrying about it?" Andrea asked as the group stopped to take a short rest.

Thank God. My ribs wanna strangle my lungs just for the need to breathe. Nevermind what I've been making them do.

"That was a gunshot..." Lori's worried eyes stared past me, back the way we came.

I leaned against the tree next to me, sliding down to give my needlessly sore muscles a break. What was meant to be a sigh, came out as a groan I hope no one noticed.

My muscles are trembling just sitting here but if I show too much pain, they'll make me go back to the highway; and no doubt at least someone will feel uneasy about my going alone, which just takes more manpower away from the search— if they don't decide to just call it.

"We all heard it" Daryl gave me a 'you good?' look. I nodded and took a moment to let the various degrees of pain subside and become background noise.

"Why one? Why just one gunshot?" Lori looked at him as if he'd know the answer.

Daryl shook his head, probably wracking his brain for an answer she'll accept. "Maybe they took down a walker"

" _Please don't patronize me._ You know Rick wouldn't risk a gunshot to put down one walker— or Shane. They'd do it quietly." Lori looked back to the woods.

She's got a point, actually. I swallowed hard and Glenn came over to me, crouching and slipping his backpack off.

"Shouldn't they have caught up with us by now?" Carol looked at Daryl expectantly.

"There's nothing we can do about it anyway. Can't run around these woods chasing echoes." Daryl looked around, shifting his crossbow in his hands.

Glenn pulled out a water bottle and unscrewed it, holding it out to me.

I took it with a grateful lip quirk and ignored the pinching in my arm for the relief the cool-ish water brought my throat.

I looked where my neck would let me; scanning the area with my laser vision, wishing I was like Superman. I could find Sophia in a heartbeat then, and I wouldn't have tweaked my neck or messed up my torso like— like some rookie _dumbass_.

"So what do we do?" Lori asked Daryl as I handed Glenn the bottle.

"Same as we been. Beat the bush for Sophia, work our way back to the highway." Daryl answered, glancing at me once again.

It's funny, when Rick and Shane's not around, everyone seems to look to Daryl for direction. Not that it's irrational, he is a hunter and we're in the middle of the woods. Evolutionarily speaking, he would be in charge with the leader and secondary pack leader absent.

"I'm sure they'll hook up with us back at the RV" Andrea reassured.

Glenn offered me a hand. I smiled and he helped me back to my feet. It was easier than the first time but it hurt more.

After all these centuries of modern-ish civilization, the tribal system still applies. To an extent. Guess it's just part of traveling in a pack.

Hmm, I wonder where would I be on that scale? Rick's the pack alpha— that's obvious, Shane is his right hand, Daryl is next—

Lori touched my shoulder and I flinched immediately cursing the involuntary action. She gave me an apologetic look and I waved it off after a second, when I was able.

We started moving again but we didn't get ten feet before Andrea walked over to a stationary Carol, keeping everyone from moving on. "I'm sorry for what you're going through. I know how you feel"

"I suppose you do. Thank you." Carol looked her up and down. Her gaze is getting more and more downcast. She's giving up.

She looked around at the woods like most city people do, shaking her head, and clenching her jaw.

"The thought of her, out here, by _herself._ It's the not knowing that's killing me. I just keep hopin' and prayin' she doesn't wind up like Amy."

My eyebrows shot to my hairline, jaw dropping like the muscles had been cut. She did not just say that to her.

Andrea shifted, obviously having half a mind to smack Carol but Carol's desperate, "Oh God. That's the worst thing I ever said" made her shake her head and step back.

"We're all hoping and praying with you. For what it's worth."

Damn. I should give her more credit. I think I would've grabbed Carol by the throat if she'd something like that to me.

"I'll tell you what it's worth— _not a damn thing._ " Daryl interrupted, drawing all eyes to him.

"It's a waste a time all this hopin' and prayin'. Cause we're gonna locate that little girl. She's gonna be just _fine._ " I don't think I've ever heard Daryl state something with such conviction.

He looked back and forth between the two before turning to walk away.

"Am I the only one Zen around here? Good lord."

"...Eve's pretty calm" Glenn interjected as we started moving again.

I smiled and winked, putting two thumbs up as they looked back at me.

Daryl scoffed, shaking his head, "When ain't she? Just fell out of a damn tree and she's over there smilin' like it never happened."

Amused smiles played across the faces around me as we started moving again. For as much pain as I'm in right now, I can say with some level of certainty, it was worth it. If just for that.

I waited until everyone past me before I started moving again, making me the only person who caught Lori's last worried glance to the forest behind us.

* * *

I turned in a careful circle, lingering a bit as I scanned behind us.

Only being able to turn one way is a real bitch.

Somehow we've gone from walking in a line, to walking next to each other, a few paces apart.

I walked on Daryl's right at the end of our line, but every time I did my spin, I couldn't help but notice that while everyone else is leaving footprints, but mine aren't as noticeable.

My step is lighter than most, I know that. I mean, I can understand why my step is lighter than Daryl's, he's probably 100 lbs of muscle heavier than me. But I bet ya I'm faster than all of them— maybe not right this second but if it was life or death, these scrapes wouldn't stop me from bookin' it.

The need to breathe comes second to the need for a pulse.

The line came to a stop and I walked a little farther to where I could see through a slit in the trees. Looking at the horizon, I noted the darkening gradient of the sky. The sun'll be down soon.

Dale's watch would sure come in handy right about now, but if I had to guess, it's maybe 7-ish?

"We'll lose the light before too long. I think we should call it." Daryl's voice right behind me startled me but I could tell he wasn't facing me.

"Let's head back" Lori agreed

I turned, doing another scan. Momentarily blinding myself with the reflection off my knife, but my knife is— ...in my...

I looked down, leaning a bit until the glint blinded me again. What is that?

I knelt down in the dirt, brushing damp and crusty leaves out of the way.

It's a piece of metal. I dug it out of the dirt with my fingers and held it up where I could get a better look at it; burning my retina again. No wonder it was glinting so harshly, it's gold. A small heart shaped locket but I don't think it's Sophia's.

My fingers went to my own locket instinctively, as I stared at it. It's rusted in places but not completely. It can't have been here for that long.

I started to wobble and braced my hand against a tree to make it easier.

"Pick it up again tomorrow?" Carol asked as I opened the locket. Whatever was inside it is long gone, if there ever was something inside it.

"Yeah we'll find her tomorrow" Lori answered.

I wonder how it got here.

This isn't exactly a populated area— nor is it a camp ground. At least I don't think it is. Either that or we somehow missed the sign.

It'd be a shame to leave it here. It's a nice necklace. Maybe Sophia will like it.

I rubbed all the dirt I could off the necklace on my jeans and jacket, along with my own fingers and stuffed it in my pocket just as a sharp low whistle caught my attention.

Neck slipping my mind, I tried to crane my neck and a sharp pull of muscle sent a sing all down my spine. My teeth trapped my lips, eyes slamming shut at the sensation.

It was a good few seconds before I could open them, release my now swelling lips and turn on the balls of my feet, using the ground to keep from falling over.

Daryl jerked his head, letting me know we were leaving, with a wary look I was hoping to avoid.

I nodded, using the tree next to me to stand up, but my bruises and particularly my ribs, weren't happy about standing again.

Quit your whining, Evelyn Rider.

We've fallen out of trees before. Never with a gnawing notion that we could be running for our lives at any second— but that's no excuse.

I caught up to Glenn who waited until I was right next to him to keep going and -probably having something to do with longer legs- made it to the front within a few steps.

I didn't realize before but I think I'm the second tallest woman in the group. After Lori.

I know I'm taller than Dale. Glenn and I are the same height.


	27. Chapter 27

"How much farther?" Lori asked

"Not much. Maybe a hundred yards. As the crow flies" Daryl answered.

He sounds exhausted, I don't blame him. We're all running on empty. I'm trying not to wheeze but I sound like a dying car's tailpipe. A leaking can of aerosol.

"Too bad we're not crows" Andrea stomped to the side of me as she walked. Feet crashing on leaves and sticks with every step.

Glenn nudged me and pointed to a strangely warped mushroom on a log. The corner of my lip lifted and my feet came to halt in front of it.

I stiffly leaned down to pick it, attempting to not be too obvious in holding my side as I did it, when a scream snapped my attention away from it.

"Andrea?!" Lori called out, head's swivelling in every direction to check for the grumpy blonde before several pairs of heavy steps were running towards the screams.

The fall slowed me down quite a bit more than I'd have liked but I still kept pace with them, opting to stay next to Carol near the back.

We ran through the trees, headed for a patch of tan until we came to a stop several feet from a girl on a horse but I don't see Andrea.

My first instinct was to pull my gun on the girl but that flew out the window when she spoke.

"Lori? Lori Grimes? Whoa" How the crap does she know her name?

"I'm Lori" said woman panted next to me, staring.

"Rick sent me you gotta come now" the girl rushed the words out as fast as humanly possible.

"What?" Lori's brow scrunched in confusing; a state of nonplussed sweeping over the rest of the group.

"There's been a accident. Carl's been shot" _Oh my God_ "He's still alive, but you gotta come now"

My brow shot to my hairline, mouth falling ajar, and eyes shooting to Lori.

She gaped like a fish out of water, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing in disbelief.

" _Rick needs you, just come_!"

Lori's backpack hit the ground with a thud and was already getting on the horse before Daryl could get two words out.

"Whoa whoa whoa, we don't know this girl. You can't get on that horse-" he tried to stop Lori without touching her.

I grabbed Daryl's arm and shook my head. Nothing he— or anyone says is gonna change Lori's mind about going with this woman, rightfully so.

If what she says is true, it's worth the risk.

"Rick said you had others on the highway. That big traffic snarl?" she looked at Glenn.

"Uh-huh" Glenn nodded in a complete daze, chest heaving from running.

"Backtrack to Fairburn road. Two miles down is our farm. You'll see the mailbox, the name's Greene. _Hiyah_!" And just like that, the two rode off into the woods, leaving the rest of us standing here like deer in headlights.

All eyes staring after the horse even after it was long gone.

I spotted Andrea in the dirt several feet from back the way she came. Her face twisted in shock.

I moved around Daryl, going to her side and normally I would've crouched to see if she's okay but under the circumstances I offered my hand instead, giving her a once over as she stared at my palm.

She stared at my hand, reaching him to take it when growls came over my shoulder.

I turned sharply and before I got two inches the pain in my neck twinging and my eyelids slammed shut, stopping the action mid-turn.

I turned my shoulders, enough to side-eye the walker with a chunk of missing forehead sit up.

"Shut up" Daryl put a bolt through it's head nonchalantly as he strode towards Andrea and I, offering his hand as well.

Andrea took both our hands, pulling herself to her feet and my hand stung with the contact of her sweaty grip, making my jaw clench long after she let go.

I curled my fingers into a fist in an attempt to stop or lessen the sting and gave her the same concerned, questioning gaze Daryl's shot my way every few minutes since my flight.

She gave an unconvincing nod but she doesn't have any bites or scratches as far as I can tell, so either she's scared or in shock; Probably both.

We've all had near-death experiences before, but nothing like this. She needs to lay down lest she goes into shock, but not out here. God no. We're not far from the highway, I'll have to keep an eye on her until we make it back.

I side-eyed Daryl, actually remembering the shooting pain in my throbbing neck for a change, and he returned the look with a short nod.

He jerked his head towards the trees, touching my elbow with his finger in a silent indication of 'come on'.

I laid my hand on Andrea's back as we started walking, Carol and Glenn waiting until we caught up to them to start moving.

Daryl was right. We're whittling down into smaller and smaller groups.

* * *

"Shot? What do you mean shot?" Dale walked towards us as Glenn helped me step over the guardrail.

"I don't know Dale. I wasn't there. All I know is this chick rode out of nowhere like Zorro on a horse and took Lori." Breathe Glenn. I know you're freaked out but breathe.

"You let her?" Dale cast an accusing look at Daryl while he and Carol stepped over the rail, followed by Andrea.

"Climb down out of my ass, old man. Rick sent her. She knew Lori's name, and Carl's." Daryl brushed past me going towards the RV.

"I heard screams. Was that you?" Dale asked Andrea as she pushed past him; not giving him the time of day.

"She got attacked by a walker. It was a close call." Glenn answered for her.

I'm really trying not to be insensitive but she is tap-dancing on my last nerve. You lived, you're fine. See the glass half full for once; Take the win, for God's sakes. You don't have so much as a scratch. Carl got shot, and we don't know if Rick and Shane are okay either.

"Andrea, are you alright?" Dale called after her. She stopped at the RV side door and turned back with the hate of a thousand years packed behind a glower.

I glanced at Dale before the RV door slamming made me jerk. Wow...ok, I'm out of this pissing contest. I don't have the patience for this shit right now.

I trudged towards Daryl, and pulled myself up on the hood of Carol's car. It was a bit more difficult than usual, considering, but it beats sitting on the ground, or blocking the RV steps.

I'm glad I didn't decide to hop on the truck hood by the motorcycle. I barely got myself up on this thing and it's only 4 feet off the ground.

"You good?" Daryl came over, leaning against the car next to me.

I nodded, humming in response.

Note to self: running is a bad idea, so is sitting up, walking, using any upper body strength at all, and breathing too deeply.

My side is killing me.

I used my elbow to ease myself into laying back, resting against the windshield. What I wouldn't give for an actual bed right now. A soft memory foam one, with big puffy silk covers, and feather pillows.

Mm, just thinking about it makes me tired.

I let my eyes drift closed but even if I was dead on my feet right now, I wouldn't be able to.

About ten minutes later, Daryl pushed off the hood as the others started discussing the farm that girl told us about, but he didn't go far.

He won't admit it, but you can't hide it from these sharp eyes, Dixon. You're a worrier.

Worried about Sophia, worried about everyone splitting up, worried about more people getting lost and maybe killed.

You're worried about what happens next, and about my stupid ass falling out of that tree. And I know, because you can't sit still when you're worried. Like you're doing right now. Shifting on your feet, gaze flitting around. Anxious, tense, restless.

The others may not see it, and you're admittedly very good at hiding behind a scowl, but you're an open book to me.

"I won't do it. We can't just leave." Carol refused.

"Carol, the group is split. We're scattered and weak." Dale argued, leaning against the RV's wide open side door.

"What if she comes back, and we're not here?" her voice cracked, a mother's desperation dripping from every word.

"It could happen" Carol's voice dropped to a broken mumble. Holding out hope that's dying fast in others.

"If Sophia found her way back and we were gone, that would be awful" Andrea acknowledged her point.

Daryl nodded, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. "Okay. We gotta plan for this. I say tomorrow morning's soon enough to pull up stakes. Give us a chance to rig a big sign, leave her some supplies."

Carol shifted, the ghost of a grateful smile cast Daryl's way. She isn't happy about the idea of leaving and she has every right to be.

I'm glad I don't have kids right now, they all seem to be getting the short end of the stick. Carl getting shot, Sophia getting lost, meanwhile we can't do anything but wander these accursed woods, pray Carl's gonna be okay, and hope we get lucky.

I can't imagine how scared she must be. Seeing monsters behind every fleeting movement, hearing them with every faint noise. Not being able to do anything but run, and hide...hoping and wishing for someone to save you.

"I'll hold here tonight. Stay with the RV." Daryl's gesture to the RV brought me back into the conversation.

"If the RV's staying, I am too." Dale declared without missing a beat.

"Thank you. Thank you both." Carol nodded, casting grateful smiles to the both of them. Daryl returned her nod with a brief one of his own before looking to Andrea.

"...I'm in" Andrea smiled weakly.

"Well, if you're all staying then I'm—"

"No, not you Glenn. You're going. Take- take Carol's cherokee." Dale interrupted the pizza boy before he finished.

"Me?" Glenn laughed humorlessly, "Why's it always me?"

I wouldn't bother Glenn. People have asked themselves that for centuries and have yet to find an answer.

"We have to find this farm, reconnect with our people, and find out what's going on but most important, you have to get T-Dog there." Dale stated firmly.

"This is not an option. That cut has gone from bad to worse, he has a very. serious. blood infection. Get him to that farm...see if they have any anti-biotics, because if not...T-Dog will die, no joke."

Who would joke about something like that nowadays? Aside from facetious assholes(like myself unfortunately) who are the one's about to get their string cut.

I watched Daryl shift, turning like he was going to move but stopped, then decided to do it anyway. Walking to his motorcycle, he swiped a rag off of it -tossing Dale a scowl- before digging through the side bag and jerking out a plastic sack.

"Keep your oily rags off my brother's motorcycle" Daryl threw the cloth at Dale's chest with a snap before dropping the bag next to me on the hood.

"Why'd you wait till now to say anything? Got my brother's stash." I watched Daryl dig through the bag.

That's a lot of drugs, by any standard, let alone for one person. No wonder Merle's brain was— is scrambled. I always thought he might be a little gone in the head but...I didn't expect to be right.

"Crystal, X. Don't need that." Daryl pulled a bottle out of the bag and read the label before tossing it to Glenn, who caught it reflexively. "Some kickass painkillers."

You see that, that right there is what makes me wonder about pizza boy.

"Doxycycline" Daryl pulled out another prescription bottle and tossed it to Dale, who barely caught it. "Not the generic stuff, neither. It's first class."

"Merle got the clap on occasion."Daryl shrugged off the comment like it was entirely normal to tell people that. He picked up the sack, taking it back to the motorcycle.

I could have lived without that information. Eh—! or that picture. God— Why would you do this to me, Daryl!?

I clenched my teeth to keep from laughing while everyone else exchanged disgusted glances.

"Eve, you go with those two." Daryl came back towards me.

"Why is she going?" Dale asked as I tried to sit up suddenly, a sharp burning in my torso preventing me from doing so. I tried to shake my head in protest but had to stop after only one turn. Oh god, I shouldn't have laid back, my back's stinging like I jumped off the high dive and smacked into the pool.

"That's why" Daryl pointed at me and I scowled at him, clenching my fist.

"What happened?" Dale looked to the others for clarification, an abrupt flare of concern being cast my way.

"Casper here fell out of a tree." Glenn explained.

Dale looked at me like a concerned parent and I put my hand up, signaling he shouldn't be. Hoping he wasn't focusing on my clenched fist on the hood.

It's not as bad as they're making it out to be.

A new bloom of pain spread from the base of my spine as I tried to slide off the hood.

I hope.


	28. Chapter 28

I had a little trouble getting into the car and Daryl was sure to laugh at me, well as close as he gets to laughing -which is pretty much just a scoff and head shake- before lending me a hand and I was sure to elbow him in the leg for finding amusement in my pain once I was in.

He passed me my backpack and I nodded as thanks, side-eyeing him from inside the car.

He closed the door — _probably to keep me from escaping_ — and as Glenn pulled out I gave him a mock salute and stuck out my tongue, to which he shook his head with that _almost_ smile.

* * *

We reached the farm after dark. Mostly because Glenn missed the turn...twice.

I got out of the car before Glenn could and opened the gate, letting him drive through before I closed and latched it and got back in; not as much trouble as the first time but it still hurt like a skateboard the shins.

Glenn parked the car a distance from the house under a tree in the driveway, and we all got out.

Going up to the steps, Glenn and T stopped in front of me; eyes set on a set of red drips on the top step.

"So do we ring the bell? I mean it looks like people live here." Glenn looked back at me as if I had the answer.

I put my hand on his shoulder, and he looked to T as he said, "We're past this kind of stuff, aren't we?"

"Having to be considerate." T-Dog swayed in his step as they started up the steps and I noticed that girl from earlier sitting on the porch.

I broke off without notice and went around to look at her.

They reached the top of the stairs and I came up on the other side of the girl who was watching them in mild amusement from the faded green rocking chair against the house.

"You close the gate up the road when you drove in?" she made her presence known to them and they stopped to look at her.

"Uh, hi..." Glenn started awkwardly. "Yes, we closed it. Did the latch and everything."

She dropped her legs down off the chair and leaning against her elbows on her knees.

"Hello. Nice to see you again" Glenn made a lame attempt at being polite. She didn't respond and he shook his head slightly, "We, ah, met before...briefly."

So it wasn't just me he wasn't smooth with. I wonder, does he have this kind of trouble talking to all new women he meets?

"Look, we came to help. There anything we can do—" T-Dog grunted painfully.

"It's not a bite. I uh...I cut myself pretty bad though." T-Dog reassured the girl.

"We'll have it looked at. I'll tell 'em yer here." She stood and went to open the door.

"We have uh, some painkillers and antibiotics" Glenn pulled out the pills from his backpack. "I already gave him some." he gestured to T-Dog, sparing him a glance. "If Carl needs any..."

"Come on inside, I'll make you something to eat." She opened the door and turned to go in first but jumped out of her skin when she saw me, a short scream escaped her lips.

"Oh— that's Eve." Glenn was quick to make sure she didn't panic, thinking I'm a walker. I lifted my hands in surrender, offering the best disarming smile I could.

"She does that a lot. I guess we should have warned you..."Glenn trailed off awkwardly.

Her eyes fixed on my hands, reminding me of the scratches spanning my palms.

She swallowed, eyeing me again before opening the door fully and letting us in.

I motioned for T-Dog to go ahead of me and closed the door behind myself when we were all inside.

It's always weird being in a stranger's house. Gives my gut the flutters. It smells different than the city. Clean, and old; slight hints of fresh cut grass, fruit trees, and dust.

"What is she? Yer bodyguard or somethin'?" the girl lead us through to the living room. It's old and homy; faded paint and furniture well used, but well taken care of.

"I wish. Then I could sleep without one eye open. No, she uh— fell out of a tree. Tweaked her neck, scraped her hands pretty bad, been having trouble breathing."

I looked at Glenn, almost too quickly. How the goblin toes does he know about my breathing?

Glenn glanced at my , shifting evasively and directed his eyes back to the girl.

She lead us to the room where Carl was resting and the second I walked through the door, my stomach dropped into my boots, sinking through the ground; a perpetual state of falling.

"Hey" Glenn muttered, dragging off his hat.

Rick and Lori looked up from the other side of the room, next to their son's bedside.

"Hey" Rick replied hoarsely. He looks as bad as I feel. His normal peachy skin taken on pallor, brow slicked with sweat, police shirt open stained with red, eyes tired and unfocused like he hasn't slept in weeks, a red puff under his eyes but not the sort that comes from crying; the sort that makes him look like a drug addict. The living breathing definition of wan.

Carl laid in the white sheets, a bloodied bandage on his side contrasting starkly with the drained pallor of his body, hauntingly similar to his father's.

"Um...we're here, okay?" Glenn swallowed, staring remorsefully at Carl.

I know you mean well Glenn, and it's good to let them know they're not in this alone, but there are no words aside from 'mom' and 'dad' that will make this better right now.

"Thank you" Lori nodded to him, fiddling with her necklace. Rick barely glanced at us, rubbing his head with his hand.

"Whatever you need" T-Dog let them know before he and Glenn somberly shuffled out of the room.

Rick dragged a tired hand down his worry riddled face as the doctor peeled the blanket down below Carl's stomach to rest on the boy's hips.

A sharp influx of breath burned my torso at the sight of the swelling purple and blue of Carl's stomach, around the bandage, spreading all the way to the other side of his abdomen.

The wooden floorboards made light squeaks as my feet carried me behind Rick and Lori's seats. I set gentle hands on their shoulders giving a reassuring squeeze to the both of them.

Lori placed her hand over the top of mine, squeezing as tight as her strength would allow, and Rick leaned slightly into my touch but remained hunched over, holding his son's hand. A horrid weight of guilt rolling from his composure.

There's nothing else I can do for them but God I wish there was.

I'm not a parent— nor have ever been or had the desire to be. I can't imagine how it feels to see your child hurt or injured let alone have the loom of death hanging over their head, but...Carl is the nephew I'd have never had, if it weren't for the downfall of civilization.

"They don't get back soon, we're gonna have a decision to make." the old achromatic haired doctor's eyes shifted between the two.

"And that is?" Rick's pinky rested so close to his mouth it looked like he was chewing on it but too invested in the doctor's words to actually do so.

"Whether to operate on your boy without the respirator." he blinked between the parents, catching my gaze only once in the rapid flickering.

"You said that wouldn't work." Lori sounded as if she was holding her breath while she spoke.

"I know. It's extremely unlikely." his blue eyes flitted between them and Carl. "But we can't wait much longer."

Lori hastily let go of my hand, dropping the hand that was on her husband's shoulder and all but fled from the room.

Rick sat up from his hunched position slowly, watching the doc delicately move Carl's blanket back up over his distended tummy.

Rick attempted to stand but teetered and I grabbed his bicep, giving him the sturdiness he needed to go after his wife, he glanced at me on his way; a look of something between gratitude, and pleading.

I don't know exactly what it was, but I can take a guess.

I watched him leave the room and took his place in the seat beside Carl's bed, taking the boy's unsettlingly cold hand in mine. The dull sting of my scrapes was easy to push out of mind, as long as I stayed with Carl.

I really hope they're not at odds; for Carl's sake, if not their own.

The prospect of losing a child is not something people handle well, and I don't think they should, but I also don't think they should give up on him yet.

Carl's a tough kid, like his parents. Tenacious and unwavering. He won't give up without a fight.

* * *

I combed damp brown strands off Carl's cold, sweat-slicked forehead with my long scratched up fingers.

Come on, kid. You've got too much to live for to go now.

The corner of my lip turned up as the memory of Carl falling out of that truck came flooding to the surface. The look on his face, the laugh we had afterwards.

Tell you what, kiddo. When you wake up, I'll teach you how to climb trees. I know it may not look like i'd be the best teacher at the moment, but trust me, this was a fluke.

I could teach you how to do that card trick you like, or maybe we'll recruit Glenn and I'll teach you two how to play blackjack. You can show Glenn what a proper poker face looks like. Sound good?

My tongue darted out, running over my cracked, salty bottom lip to pull it into my mouth where my teeth could rake over it almost painfully.

Rick and Lori came back before long, sitting outside the door just over my shoulder, opposite of the one I came through earlier. From the looks on their faces, they were definitely fighting.

About what, I can't say, but they need to get their shit together because if they don't, I will. And trust me my way won't be pleasant, but it won't be fragile by the time I'm done with it either.

They sat in silence, the only sounds being inhales and exhales of varying degrees from the 4 adults and the one child.

The doctor sat on the other side of Carl's bedside, exchanging glances with me every so often.

I continued to hold Carl's hand, rubbing soothing circles with my thumb, and occasionally using the cloth on the nightstand to dab away the sweat glistening on Carl's forehead.

Silence is something I'm not used to being painful, and heavy. Weighing down on my shoulders like stormclouds around mountains.

* * *

A few minutes passed and Carl began coughing. My eyes snapped up from his hand, bugging out of my head as the door behind me opened in less than a second and I had about half that to get out of Rick & Lori's way before they took my place next to Carl.

I stood at the foot of the bed, hands gripping the metal bed frame as I watched his eyes peel open.

"Where are we?" His eyes flicked between the faces in the room.

"Hey, little man. That's Herschel. We're in his house." Rick explained gently. "You had an accident. All right?"

Carl looked down at his stomach, face twisting in pain. "It hurts, a lot"

"Oh, baby. I know. I know" Lori ran her fingers through Carl's hair, moving it around, trying to sooth her baby boy.

"You should have seen it" Carl smiled at his mother.

"What?" she breathed, confused.

"The deer" Carl clarified, fingers tightening and untightening on the rim of the blanket. Carl looked at me and I smiled.

"It was so pretty, mom. It was so close." He looked back at his mom, "I've never been..."

His face went slack and my heart stopped beating.

"Carl?" Rick asked, but there was no answer.

"What's happening?" Lori asked, the panic in the room rising by the millisecond.

Carl suddenly jerked and they both went to grab him but Herschel stopped them, "Don't. It's a seizure. If you hold him down, you could hurt him."

Hershel turned Carl on his side.

"You can't stop it?" they both backed off. My fists clenched so tightly I felt the cuts reopen and begin to bleed, but my nails dug in further. I don't even know when I let go of the frame.

"He has to just go through it" Herschel answered as calmly as he could.

Lori grabbed onto Rick, clinging to him—crying while Carl spasmed on the bed.

My fists tightened beyond white knuckles until my hands began to tingle but didn't loosen even after the seizure passed, and blood was dripping between my fingers.

Herschel looked at Carl's eyes immediately once it was over, and Lori & Rick were back Carl's side in the blink of an eye.

"His brain isn't gettin' enough blood. His pressure's bottoming. He needs another transfusion." Herschel concluded

"Okay I'm ready." Rick stated, holding out his arm.

"If I take any more out of you, your body could shut down. You could go into a coma." That's nothing new. "Or cardiac arrest."

"You're wasting time." Rick almost growled, stretching his arm out farther.

Herschel grabbed a bottle but before he was about to stick the needle into Rick's arm, I pushed Rick's wrist and hiked up my sleeve, holding out mine.

Herschel and the Grimes' looked at me almost accusingly as I stated, "O negative"

Recognition and almost relief flooded Hershel's face.

"It's fortunate you showed up." Herschel didn't hesitate to prep my arm and stick the needle into my skin.

I hate needles, but for Carl's sake, I can put my fear aside.

"What are you doing?" Lori hissed.

"O negative is the universal donor. They can give and receive blood from any type." Herschel answered as he pushed me to sit down next to Rick, in Lori's previous seat.

I watched the red liquid flow through the tube, keeping my thoughts away from the fact I've been impaled and towards the fact that Carl will have more time.

Two blood bags is better than one.

Rick stared at me with gratitude words couldn't express. Lori's expression melting into the same a moment later.

I gave a brief nod in return, putting my free hand on his shoulder to let him know everything was gonna be alright.

Just like Daryl said, It's gonna be just fine.


	29. Chapter 29

After the transfusion, Herschel seemed to have noticed my inability to turn my head whenever I attempted to glance at Lori, whose hand was firmly placed on my shoulder.

I'd already gotten scolded about my hands; It wasn't difficult to notice the fresh blood on my palms after the initial panic of helping Carl. Apparently digging your fingernails into barely scabbed wounds makes them bleed again.

"Come out here for a moment." Hershel motioned at me after he'd finished removing the— thing from my arm.

I rolled my shoulder, trying not to shiver, and pushed out all thoughts about what had been inside my arm. Carl got what he needs from me, that's what's important.

My stomach rolled a little as I stood up; slower than I should have for someone who just gave as much blood as I did, and this sharp old man definitely noticed the grimace I tried so hard to disguise.

I pat Rick on the shoulder and squeezed Lori's hand before I followed the doc out of the room.

Herschel had me follow him into the dining room and bandaged up my hands before taking a look at my neck.

"Turn your head for me" Hershel's calloused fingers reached for my neck and I jerked back.

He put his hands up much the same way Rick does when showing he doesn't mean any harm. Hershel reminds me a little of Dale in that regard.

I ducked my head, clearing my throat and looked back up stiffly; allowing Hershel to touch my neck. No matter how hard I tried though, I couldn't stop myself from trying to lean away. Having a stranger's hands on —or anywhere near— my neck is disconcerting to say the least. Doctor or not.

Hershel motioned for me to turn my head, feeling around my spine and pressing on the sore muscles. I did turn but didn't take my eyes off him.

It feels weird and _definitely_ hurt in places but nowhere near as much as my ribs do right now. Starting like that before brought on a new bought of searing throbbing.

"You got lucky. It's just a muscle bruise near a nerve cluster. It'll heal up on it's own in a few days. It'll be sore for awhile. Try not to aggravate it. Now lift your shirt please. Let me see about those bruises."

I lifted my shirt without resistance this time(as long as his hands get away from my neck), so he could poke and prod at my torso.

The sharp intakes, and horror stricken faces of the blonde woman, T-Dog, and the porch girl(who I'm 45% sure is sweet on Glenn), aren't helping my attempt at a positive outlook.

Hershel barely put any pressure on my ribs before I grabbed his wrist with a sharp exhale out my nose.

I let go a second later and beared with it, grinding my teeth as he poked around. _Literally._

"Well, good news is they're not broken, just cracked. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do for these either. They'll heal on their own in a few weeks but we'll see about something for the pain in the meantime."

"Maggie, could you get her some painkillers and fix her something to eat? Make sure she drinks some water."

"Course" Porch girl _Maggie_ nodded, motioning for me to follow her and I stood before doing just that.

I watched her shake out a few pills from a bottle of ibuprofen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it in the sink before handing both to me.

I popped the pills into my mouth, and as soon as the cool water hit my throat I chugged the whole thing. God I didn't realize how thirsty I was. Or how good tap water tastes.

Maggie fixed me a sandwich, eyeing me through her eyelashes every few seconds while she spread jam on a piece of bread.

I wonder if she's assuming I can read minds.

"You're not much of a talker are you?" Finally, I was starting to think she was never gonna speak up.

The corners of my mouth lifted and I gave a limited head shake.

Maggie set the sandwich in front of me and I most certainly did not marvel at the use of a plate before less than gracefully shoving half the sandwich in my mouth. I haven't eaten since this morning before we left the RV.

I never thought I'd miss peanut butter so much. The thick creamy substance tasting like pure heaven on my tongue. If I could make my own peanut butter nowadays I would eat everything with it. Lord knows it'd make 90% of the stuff taste better.

I smiled gratefully around a mouthful and Maggie returned it with her own slightly amused as I followed her back out to the other room, plate in hand.

Maggie looked out the window and wandered outside as I sat down to devour this peanut, strawberry goodness.

Hold up, is that Glenn on the porch?

My cheek muscles strained with the grin on my lips, watching Maggie sneak up on him.

Maybe he does need a bodyguard.

After I finished the sandwich(in record time), I washed the plate — _with_ gloves so I don't get yelled at for soiling the fresh, clean bandages— and stopped to admire the running water.

It's the little things in life you miss the most, isn't it? Running water, a mattress, peanut butter, heated water, having more than two changes of clothes. A sense of familiarity.

Honestly I'm jealous. They still live in their house. They still have all their belongings. The little things they've collected over the years, things with memories that aren't attached to death or pain, guilt or sorrow.

A stampede of footsteps had me shutting off the water and spinning on my heel in one quick flourish, going through the other room to see everyone rushing out the door.

I caught up with T-Dog standing in the front doorway, and everyone else was moving towards a blue truck where Shane all but fell out of the cabin, limping, with two giant bags on his shoulders.

I can see his chest heaving from the porch 30 feet away.

Hershel and Glenn took the heavy bags from him, Glenn nearly dropping his at the unexpected weight.

"Otis?" Hershel looked around before halting on Shane as I made it down the staircase.

Shane's empty stare fixed on him, and he hung his head. The shake he gave barely noticeable.

"No" he breathed, eyes flicking between Glenn, Hershel, the ground, not focusing on anything.

A heavy silence weighed the atmosphere like a car in a river; souring the relief from moments before to woe.

"We say nothing to Patricia." Hershel turned back and forth, struggling with which way to go, pain tinging his voice. "Not till after."

"I need her" he headed for the porch steps, rushing back inside; followed by Glenn.

Shane looked everywhere, movements fidgety and trembling but not from fear. From hyperawareness. I've seen it often enough in my time to recognize the distinction.

Wide unblinking eyes, no trouble boring into Rick's eyes.

Rick stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Shane. Shane stared at the ground over his shoulder, hands rising meekly; that's when they began to shake. Right after he looked at Lori next to me.

Rick pulled back, and Shane's gaze dropped to nothing on the ground.

"They kept blocking us it was... every turn" Shane breathed, so low I almost couldn't hear him.

"We had nothing left. We were down to 10 rounds." Shane swayed back and forth on his feet, like the slightest noise would send him running again.

"Then he said— he said he'd cover me and I should keep going." Shane jabbed his finger towards the ground. "So that's what I did. I just—..."

He looked at Rick, "I kept going." his eyes directed to the side, "But I—"

The muscles in his face contracted like he was angry but his eyes remained blown wide, throwing it off into something indiscernible.

"I looked back and he—" Shane shook his head, again looking anywhere but at Rick. "Just—"

I set my hand on Maggie's trembling shoulder and Lori stepped closer to her, rubbing her back the way a mother comforts a child.

"I tried" Shane mumbled, the adrenaline looking like it's finally dissipating.

Rick stepped forward, placing his hand on Shane's shoulder in an effort to comfort. "He wanted to make it right."

Shane stared at him, nodding, and pulled his hand over his mouth.

I turned, giving Maggie's shoulder a squeeze before heading back into the house.

I don't know who Otis is but Carl has a chance now; whoever he is— or was...thank you.


	30. Chapter 30

I don't know when it was, but at some point I must have fallen asleep on the couch because I opened my eyes to sunlight.

It's early. _Very_ early.

Standing up, I swayed a bit before regaining my balance.

Every muscle in my body is sore but I languidly made my way to Carl's room anyway.

Lori and Rick sat next to him in the chairs, they look like they haven't moved since last night, while Hershel was checking his blood pressure once again.

Relief flooded my chest, rushing out in a sigh at the sight of Carl's open eyes. He's finally awake.

"They're here" T-Dog rushed up behind me, startling me.

Rick's gaze met mine and I nodded, already knowing what he wanted.

I took their place by Carl's side, letting them go inform the others just arriving.

Alone, I sat down next to Carl, toeing off my shoes and put my feet up on the bed, next to his cold toes.

Carl stared at me for a bit before asking, "What happened to your hands?"

I made a climbing motion and he smiled.

"You fell, huh?" smiling all too knowingly for someone who's known me for less than a year, and was nowhere near me when it happened.

Making a mock offended face, I realized he was right and blew some of my hair out of my face in defeat.

You're going places kid. If it were possible to be so, you're too smart for your own good.

* * *

Carl and I talked— interacted for a while, until he fell asleep again. I didn't realize how exhausted this whole ordeal has been until now.

It's hard to believe all this happened in the span of a single day.

Rick came back in a few minutes after Carl drifted off; Although to be honest I thought he was Daryl with how heavy his footfalls are.

It's amazing what blood loss and exceeding stress will do to a person in such a short period.

"We're having a funeral for Otis...would you mind staying with Carl?"

I nodded without hesitation. I don't think I could stand long enough for a funeral if I tried.

He and Lori both should be at the funeral. Otis saved their child, the least they can do is see him off. Pay their respects. But Carl can't be left alone; God forbid something else happens.

* * *

Carl woke up again while they were gone and I sat up, letting my feet fall.

I watched him look around the room before he fixed on me again. I smiled and moved some of his hair off his forehead. He's in desperate need of a wash up. Not that I'm much better.

"Where's my dad?"

I glanced at the door, biting the inside of my cheek. I ran my tongue over my lip, looking back at him.

...He doesn't need to know about the funeral yet. It can wait until he's recovered a bit more. Last thing he needs is guilt on top of worry on top of injury.

When he's on his feet again we can take him to the grave, if he wants.

The corner of my lip lifted and I pointed to the door; hoping he takes it to mean he's just in the other room.

He doesn't push it, though for a second he bit his lip looking at the door like he wanted to.

* * *

I set the coin on Carl's shoulder while directing his attention to his hand with a tap of my finger.

He uncurled his fingers revealing an empty palm and smiled, looking between me and his fingers.

"How'd you do that? Where'd it go?"

I nodded at his shoulder and he lost his shit.

Laughing, smiling.

"Can you teach me how to do that?" He begged, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Carl, let's save that for later, okay baby?" Lori came from the doorway and sat next to her son; the bed dipping under her weight.

Ohp, mother has spoken.

I chuckled and messed up Carl's hair as I stood, leaving the coin with him.

I left the two alone, making my way out the front door to get some fresh air.

The RV, other cars, sat in the driveway in front of the house. I almost forgot they were here already.

A steady smile pulled at my lips and like an idiot, I jumped the steps to the ground, forgetting I'm not physically capable of that right now.

I stumbled forward awkwardly, my fingers grazing the dirt before I regained my balance and came to a stop.

I didn't think giving just one unit of blood would affect me this much —especially since I slept off the exhaustion. Maybe that's it, maybe I'm just tired.

The throb in my rib cage would suggest otherwise though. My hand cradled my side.

I stood there waiting for the stinging pain to pass, and it passed quicker than I thought it would. The bruising must not have been as bad as it looked, cause it's too easy to forget about it now.

It doesn't hurt when I turn or walk, but apparently jumping from 5 feet up onto solid ground isn't the best idea.

Thank the stars I've always been a fast healer. I'm just glad it doesn't hurt to breath anymore. I can deal with the dull ache everything's faded to but breathing is essential.

My eyes wandered over the property until I spotted Rick and a few others crowded around the hood of Carol's Cherokee. One of them being, Daryl with his crossbow.

There's only one reason he'd have his crossbow on him in camp. They must be going to look for Sophia.

I made my across the yard once I could walk -relatively- unhindered again, coming up behind Hershel.

"We'll grid the whole area. Start searching in teams."

"Not you, not today. You gave 2 units of blood and you've barely slept. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passin' out." Hershel refuted, turning his attention to Shane, "And your ankle, push it now and you'll be laid up a month. No good to anybody."

Daryl glanced up and locked eyes with me. "Bout time you showed, Sunshine."

Hershel looked over his shoulder and jumped, seeing me. I gave an apologetic smile.

Andrea, Shane, Daryl, and Rick all nodded to me; some flashing a brief smile. I mirrored the gesture, leaning on my elbows against the hood next to the doctor.

"Guess it's just Eve and me." Daryl reached over to the map, pointing to a creek. "I'ma head back to the creek. Work my way from there."

I reached over to the map and traced my finger over an area I had a good feeling about. Rick nodded, understanding.

"No it won't." Hershel interrupted. "You gave blood too, on top of being injured as well. You're not going anywhere"

Oh, yeah, try and sto—

"Try and stop her"

I blinked at Daryl, once, twice, three times.

Kay, that was...weird doesn't feel like the right word but I have no others. He legitimately just read my mind; Literally voiced my thoughts.

Rick sighed, and I directed my attention to him, already staring at me.

"Daryl has a point." he shook his head, directing his gaze to Hershel beside me.

"No use trying to stop 'er, she'll find a way to get out there one way or another." Shane chimed in, glancing to the side and rubbing his newly shaved head(since when did he shave it?).

Aww, the boys are finally learning. I flashed a toothy grin. Besides, let's be honest, I'm in better condition to go out than Rick or Shane but not in bad enough condition to not go.

A meal and an 18 hour straight nap(best sleep I've had in too damn long) will do wonders for even major bruising.

"I can still be useful. Drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back." Shane volunteered. With any luck that's exactly what she's done.

"Alright. Tomorrow then...we'll start doing this right." Rick stated, his stance suggesting he's not happy about the delay in being able to help.

"That means we can't have our people out there with just knives. We need the gun trainin' we been promising." Shane raised and Andrea perked up considerably at the mention of guns.

Somebody's trigger happy.

Hershel shifted like a disapproving parent. "I'd prefer you not carrying guns on my property. We've managed so far without turning this into an armed camp."

"No offense but you get a crowd of those things wandering in here" Of course Shane protested.

I hate to agree but it's time.

We may never get another opportunity like this before it's too late. The more people we have who can shoot and fight, the better our chances are in the long run.

Rick shook his head, "We're guests here. This is your property, and we will respect that."

Rick put his gun on the hood, looking at Shane pointedly. He scoffed but put his piece on the hood as well.

"First things first. Set camp, find Sophia." Rick started.

"I hate to be the one to ask but somebody's got to" Shane leaned against the hood, on strained arms. "What happens if we find her and she's bit. I think we should all be clear on how we handle that."

Rick downcast his eyes to his shoes, "You do what has to be done."

"And her mother? What do you tell her?" porch girl— Maggie interjected. I didn't even notice her before. She stands like she's one of us, my brain just skipped over her.

"The truth" Andrea stated.

"I'll gather up and secure all the weapons. Make sure nobody's carrying until we're at a practice range off sight. I do request one rifleman on look out. Dale's got experience." Shane looked to Hershel who does not look willing to negotiate this. Stubborn guy, isn't he?

"Our people would feel safer." Rick turned to him, almost imposingly and I took half a step back, not wanting to be caught in the middle of their stare down. "Less inclined to carry a gun."

Hershel finally gave in and nodded, and Rick thanked him curtly.

Just like that, everyone began walking away from the car. Daryl and Shane walked around and I fell into step next to Daryl.

"We should stick together 'til we get to the creek, be safer that way." he glanced at me, giving me a once over. Probably sweeping for any hinderance and with his eagle sight I don't doubt he could find it if I have one.

I nodded and jabbed my thumb at the house, motioning around my waist with my other hand to bring attention to the fact I don't have half my gear.

He nodded before I jogged up the steps and went to the living room to grab my pack and my knives. I've still got my gun but I'm not gonna hand it over until we get back.

Daryl waited for me around the side of the house while I grabbed my gear and once I came out, buckling my thigh strap, he started walking.

Rick was waiting on the front steps for us though and called out to Daryl.

Daryl stopped, turning to Rick striding towards us.

I waved slightly to Rick before tapping Daryl's shoulder and nodding towards the forest.

He got my message and I went towards the treeline to wait for him while he and Rick talk.

Rick didn't call out to me, so I'm assuming it's gonna be a somewhat private chat. What about? I've no idea but I've got a feeling it's between the two of them, judging by the way Rick was looking at him.

I don't think he's mad but...I could be wrong. His anger isn't as easy to read as say, a Dixon's or Andrea's.

A couple quick minutes later, Daryl caught up to me.

That was fast, I haven't even gotten close to the forest yet.

I side-eyed Daryl, hoping to glean something about their talk but he doesn't look any more annoyed than usual, no more tense, I guess it wasn't as serious a talk as I thought.

Maybe Rick was trying to a bury a hatchet or something?

My ankle rolled on a rock I didn't notice and I stumbled to the side but didn't fall.

Daryl snorted next to me and I tossed a half-hearted glower his way, trying and failing not to smile.

"Watch where ya step, Twinkle Toes."

Twinkle Toes? What happened to Sunshine?


	31. Chapter 31

**AU: This story is now available on Wattpad**

* * *

We stuck together as planned until we reached our separating point near the creek.

I broke off to go but didn't get twenty feet before Daryl called, "'Ey"

Halting, I turned to meet his gaze.

"...Be careful. I ain't gonna come save ur ass if ya get in trouble."

A broad smile spread across my face. I nodded, giving him a pointed 'you too' look as I started off again.

There are hardly any walkers in these woods. I think the bigger danger will be not getting lost ourselves. I'm not worried about Daryl, he's Mr. Tracking extraordinaire— I'm worried about me.

"Meet back 'ere before dark!" Daryl called and I waved my hand in acknowledgement. I don't know if he saw or not, but I'm gonna assume he did. Besides it's not like he expects me to answer; verbally at least.

* * *

You can bet your ass I'mma be back before dark. I'm confident I would not be able to find my way back in the dark. I would have to hole up for the night and there are not a lot of places to do that out here from what I can tell.

I'm not much of a tracker but in my opinion I've got an excellent memory and sense of direction. I can tell when things look out of place but to be honest, I mostly run off instinct in this regard.

Now that I think about it, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have Daryl teach me a thing or two about tracking. It would certainly come in handy right about now. Not to mention any future endeavors.

I highly doubt this will be the last time a skill such as that will be useful.

It's only been like an hour or so since we split up. It's a lot of time to myself and my thoughts; More than I realized.

I wandered past some tracks I recognized to be deer tracks. I might not be a tracker, but I'm versed enough to at least tell the difference between a human footprint and a hoof.

Under any other circumstance, I'd have followed them in the hopes of catching something that isn't squirrel(cue involuntary cringe, shiver combo) but I'm not here to hunt.

I can't risk firing my gun unless it's life or death anyway, and I doubt even I could get close enough to throw my knife at it. Unless I get ridiculously lucky.

Plus if I did that I'd risk losing my knives; I've only got two with me —and they're my favorites— it would idiotic to risk losing them for a deer I don't need.

Besides, how would I even get it back to the farm? I'm not exactly capable of lifting a deer, that's at least my size judging by that print, on my best day; let alone with cracked rib—

A moan stopped me dead in my tracks and my knife automatically raised.

My head was on a swivel, searching for the source. My feet firmly planted to the ground, tense and waiting to react.

Several seconds passed in eerie silence, without so much as a leaf rustling.

My eyes narrowed as I shifted once again. Maybe it wasn't a moan, but just sounded like one. Could've been an animal, or a breeze, or—

A twig snapped on the other side of the substantial tree beside me.

A bead of cold sweat trickled down my temple as I moved around it, careful not to step on so much as a crusty leaf. Not even my breathing made any noticeable sound.

Even though I expected it— I was prepared for it, I still jumped when a walker came at me the second I stepped around the tree.

It's much bigger than I expected— at least twice my size.

Backpedaling as fast as I could, trying avoid its grasp, I stumbled back around the massive tree and this time I was ready when it followed after me.

Sinking my knife into its skull was easy the second time around but it fell forwards, pushing me back as I pulled my knife out.

My boot caught on something and I barely had time to see the massive tree root behind me before the panicked tingle of falling blazed in my gut. Instead of hitting the ground like I expected, I kept falling. My stomach soared into my throat with the sensation, and my heart lept out of my chest when I hit water.

It was like landing on an icy pond. The water cold and the impact feeling like I'd fallen off a second story deck.

My knife slipped from my fingers sinking in the frigid murky water before I could grab it.

My lung stung with and I got back to the surface as fast as possible.

As soon as I was up with a flailing splash, the small and thick roots tangled around me like a net.

I jolted backwards, hitting my head when a half a skeletal face snapped its teeth right next to me, narrowly missing my nose.

Roots from the cavern walls wrapped around me, restricting my mobility further with every rapid breath and pounding heartbeat against the inside of my chest.

I pulled on my hand but it was snared so tightly I couldn't even reach my gun.

The walker was barely a foot opposite of me, tangled in the same roots.

It snapped at me furiously while I tried to reach my other knife.

I could almost feel the vibration of the bones as they clacked together in rapid succession all too close to my face.

The cloudy water lapped against my neck, trying to slosh it's way into my throat.

My toes scraped what felt like the bottom during my struggle.

The roots tangled around me like thousands of tiny hands, trying to pull me under and bury me alive.

Two simultaneous cracks and half a second was all the warning I got before the walker fell towards me.

I thrashed in the water, instinctively turning my head to the side.

I pressed my back as far as it would go into the crumbling mud behind me, momentarily believing this was it.

Nothing happened and reluctantly I looked out of the corner of my eye.

The loss of those few inches yielded nothing to the cannibalistic monstrosity. It's still too far to reach me but waaay too close for comfort.

It's rotting stench assaulted my senses a hundred times stronger than before.

My heart threatened to break my ribcage from the inside. The water around me was well on it's way to sending me into a full blown panic attack every time it clashed against my throat.

I knew I wasn't gonna reach my knife before that thing managed to pull its arms off and tear into me with sickening green & brown bone that would have once been considered teeth.

My frantic hands pounded around for anything that could possibly increase my chances of survival and not a moment later, my fingers curled around a decent sized root.

I gripped it so tightly my fingers felt numb and pulled with as much strength as I could, all while twisting and bending to weaken it until it finally snapped.

My heart leaped into my throat as I fell forward.

The walker snapped centimeters from my face, so close I could almost feel the scrape of it's slick slimy teeth on my cheek as I pulled myself back against the caving mud wall.

Psyching myself up with two —as steady as possible— breaths, I let myself dangerously close to the walker to pull at least one of my legs free.

Pulling with everything I had, both my legs ripped from the stringy roots; kicking what I can only assume was the walker's legs in the process.

Tucking my knees to my chest, I slammed my boots against the walker's collapsing chest.

Bones snapped from the impact. The jagged edges piercing through what skin was left on it, as it crushed against the mud wall.

The roots behind me dug into my back. Determined to punch through my jacket, into my skin.

I pulled my arm towards me, finally ripping it free of the roots and my fist —along with the root in my hand— collided into the side of my head.

Pain exploded in my temple, stinging like a swarm of angry wasps while my vision swam. As soon as my sight was clear enough to find the target, I stabbed the root through the walker's eye-socket.

It's eyeball squished, congealed blood bursting forth and splattering over my hand, clear up my sleeve to my shoulder.

It's teeth continued snapping and I broke the stick off, stabbing the remaining end as deep as it would go through the other eye.

It still wasn't enough.

Wrapping my hands around the roots in one last desperate attempt, I lifted both my legs all the way up until my knees almost touched my shoulders and smashed my heels against it's eyes.

A portion of the skull gave way, caving with a gut-wrenching crunch and near-black blood oozed out.

Choking smells overwhelmed what little fresh air was in the cavity but I slammed my feet against it three more times; each time harder than the last, until I was satisfied it was dead. For good.

Burning pains wracking my already aching chest cavity, I let my feet splash back into the water, dropping like stones and the walker hung like a morbid Halloween decoration across from me.

My limbs grew heavier with every heave my lungs burdened me with. The stinging in my head lept to the foreground. The smell stewing in the space so nauseating I could almost feel the stomach acid in my throat; bile lapping at my stinging throat.

With the immediate threat dealt with, I finally looked around.

My stomach churned, and the water suddenly dropped another 10 degrees.


	32. Chapter 32

My hands started to shake. My heartbeat proving it could go faster yet.

My mouth shrivelled of moisture like the Bonneville salt flats.

My throat closed up but it had nothing to do with the murky water surrounding me.

Dread swelled in my chest and spread like wildfire until it physically hurt and I couldn't breathe.

Needles pierced the lining of my lungs with every breath.

My head spun and I swayed.

I can't— I'm about pass out.

Instead of calming down, like I should have, I started to panic like an animal caught in a net.

I violently pulled myself in every direction that could possibly lead to freedom from the tangling stringy roots, with the newfound wiggle room I'd created.

My skin crawled, overwhelming my brain with sensations of hands, and tiny spiny legs.

Forcing myself free of roots, I sank in an instant. The water rose to my jaw. My feet touched the bottom and I stood on my toes, forcing myself to stop thrashing and let the water settle.

The water stopped just short of my bottom lip. Everywhere I looked increased the urge to violently struggle again.

Thinking fast, I grabbed my locket and brought it up above the water, where I could see it clearly and meticulously began inspecting the small patterns in the metal.

 _Breathe. Just breathe. Don't think, breathe._

 _Uh—...oh, that concert I saw for my birthday._

 _What band was playing? The Script, wasn't it?_

 _The words, remember the words…_

 _She's stronger than you know_

 _A heart of steel starts to grow_

I swallowed thickly, attempting to force myself to relax, even if it's futile. I quietly began to hum the tune as I remember it.

 _When you've been fighting for it all your life_

 _You've been struggling to make things right_

 _It's how a superhero learns to fly_

My shoulders relaxed but didn't stop shaking.

 _Everyday, every hour turn the pain into power_

I have no idea how much time I spent humming the same verse over and over, but my fingers were wrinkling before I wasn't on the cusp of a panic attack.

I sucked in a deep breath and ducked underneath the water. Going to the bottom, I used some of the roots to anchor myself and swift but carefully I dragged my hand along the bottom; searching for my knife.

I could feel my focus slipping back to panic the longer I held my breath and as soon as I grabbed something that didn't feel natural, I resurfaced.

I chaotically emerged from the water, gasping and grabbing onto another root to raise myself out as much as possible.

Wiping my eyes with my dripping hand, I splashed the object in the water, removing enough of the mud to recognize it.

I felt calmer already, just having the familiar blade in my hand feels like I can think clearly again.

I swished it off completely in the settling water until it was clean(enough) before securing it in my thigh sheath. Where it belongs.

Okay. I've got this. It's gonna be alright. I'm safe enough for now. I just, just need to get out of here.

I blew a slow breath from my mouth, clenching my fists that by no means still have a tremor. The— the water's just cold.

One more breath, then I'm gonna look up. In...and out.

Tilting my head skyward, I dug up the courage to open my eyes and forced my breath through my nose, running through my _very_ limited options.

It's hard to ignore the fact my hands are numb and I feel like I'm _sinking_ the longer I stare up _._

I blew the water off my lips, pushing a clump of wet stringy hair off my chin.

Larger roots cover most of the wall near the top. If I have to guess, I'd say it's about a 10 foot climb to the top. Not including the 5 & a ½ or so feet of water here at the bottom.

I reached up, making a grab for the roots above me. Slick slime coating the thin bark made it slide right off the root everywhere I grabbed.

Getting a solid grip that lasted more than a few seconds proved near impossible after the fifteenth try but two more and I finally got a decent enough hold to pull myself almost all the way out of the water; if you could even call it that anymore.

I brought my foot up, my knee almost touching my chest again, and dug the toe of my boot into the dirt along the wall, reaching for the next root. The dirt shifted a bit but didn't give way while I took a bracing breath and hoisted myself up to repeat it.

I climbed maybe 3 feet before my foothold crumbled and the slick root I was holding onto, betrayed me.

I plunged back into the water, barely getting under the surface before my feet hit the bottom and stuck.

Panic struck through me and I launched myself towards the surface without a thought; nearly pulling off one of my shoes but thankfully I didn't lose 'em in the glue-like mud.

As if my circumstances aren't unfavorable enough as is. If I have to fish for my shoes, I don't think I could stave off another attack.

Roughly pushing my drenched tangled hair out of my face, I coughed some water out of my throat and grabbed another root with my frozen shaking fingers, starting over.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

I looked at the sky for the third time in ten minutes. Eve should'a been 'ere by now— Hell, she should'a been waitin' for me.

She could'a found somethin'.

If she found somethin', she still would'a been 'ere before me.

My gut twisted as I scanned the trees again, looking for a dark figure and amber eyes but once again there was an unsettling lack of just that.

Eve can take of 'erself...usually. For someone so quiet she attracts an awful lot a trouble.

I never expected 'er to fall out of a damn tree.

The knot in my gut tightened second by second until I'd worn a line through the leaves on the ground and into the mud; thinking about those bruises.

She was havin trouble breathin the whole way back to the highway. She couldn't even get in the damn car yesterday.

I looked around again, before looking up to check the sky but I found myself fixated on the tree above me.

That sound when she hit the ground...

My grip tightened on my crossbow as I stared up through the trees.

I finally checked my crossbow and started off; giving into the feeling I've had since I showed up and she wasn't here.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

I dug my foot into the dirt wall once again but it broke a massive chunk off and I barely managed to keep my grip.

My hands and feet are caked in layers of mud. The water at the bottom's turned to thick sludge.

I can't afford to fall for a 6th time. Each time I do, it gets harder and harder to pull myself out. The mud's adding weight to my mass, making it harder to move, and even harder to hold onto the already slick mass of roots.

The one thing it's been good for, is keeping the bugs from biting me. I'm just glad there aren't any snakes in this pit.

Unfortunately, my luck could be a whole lot worse but what little I've had so far seems to be fading with the light.

It's gonna be dark soon and there's no chance I'll be able to climb out of here then.

I'm not optimistic that I could survive a night down here either. And that's assuming it doesn't start raining, or walkers decide to drop in uninvited, or I don't get hypothermia which I think I might already be headed for.

If I do make it through a night, there's almost a guarantee this cut on my forehead will get infected if it isn't already. I could get sick, I could drown if I fall asleep, I could starve to death down here— but more likely I'll die of thirst. Oh the irony in that.

Latching my leg around a thick branch, I stopped to rest for a second, looking up to see how far I am from rim.

7 or 8 feet by the looks of it.

I pulled my gun out now that I was high enough and threw it up and out. It's useless to me right now. It's so full of mud I doubt the hammer would even cock— and even if it did I wouldn't risk firing it at this point.

I've never made it this high before I might actually get out of here this time.

I grabbed one of the largest roots near the top but my victory was short lived. A slick, followed by a 7 foot drop and a 'shplunk' put me right back at square muddy one.

My hands shot out of the "water" grabbing onto the roots for dear life. As soon as I broke the surface, I coughed up mud for a solid minute, gasping in between fits. Tremors wracked my body from cold, exhaustion, and the ever-looming possibility of a panic attack at any moment.

I did black out for a bit around the 3rd try but seeing as I'm still alive, and it's still light out, it couldn't have been that long, and it clearly wasn't a full blown attack.

I pushed my filthy and tangled long hair out of my equally as grimy face for about the hundredth time. The usual soft quality of the strands has long been replaced with the feeling of thousands of tiny roots, like the ones from the walls. Hundreds of tiny threads winding themselves together to create nets over my skin and hinder me as much as possible.

I don't know what the Hell happened to my hair tie but it's the least of my worries right now.

I tried to scrape the mud off my hands on the bark but it had nowhere near the effect I hoped.

My hands have been shaking non-stop for the last ten minutes. Before, I could feel how cold they were but for the last half hour I haven't been able to feel much of anything in my fingers, temperature wise.

I took a minute to breathe before I climbed again. The first 5 or so feet have gotten easy, I've done it enough times to clear a decent path to follow but after that, it gets rocky again -on occasion- literally.

The suffocating must of dirt, dust, and different kinds of rot mixing my climb dislodged is almost unbearable and on three separate occasions, it forced me to stop and breathe through the mud-caked fabric of my shirt in hopes of getting some degree of fresh air into my burning lungs and stinging throat.

I can't even count how many times I've weighed the risk of drinking the water in here but the last straw always comes back to the fact it's practically walker soup and I've almost puked twice thanks to it.

The higher I get, the more careful I am about where I grab, and where I place my feet.

I got barely two feet from the top when a snap made me freeze. For a moment I thought another root had broken and expected the falling sensation I am way too used to, but on some level I already knew that sound wasn't me; It came from above.

Please just be a squirrel. For all of deities creations, please be a squirrel.

Panic set in and a cold sweat ran down the back of my neck, making me shiver.

That shiver flipped the switch in my brain from 'Freeze' to 'Move your ass'.

I reached for my next hold and tugged to make sure it would hold(only needed to learn that lesson twice) before I raised my knee to my shoulder and found my next sturdy foothold. If I fall now, there's no chance in Hell it won't be heard above by whatever is up there.

I'm close enough to the top now I can almost see out.

I reached for a root just below the rim and looked down to locate my next foothold.

I reeled as something wrapped around my wrist, nearly screaming. My head snapped up, my hand already fumbling for my knife and half a thought to pull it down with me, and I almost lost hold of the roots before I froze.


	33. Chapter 33

**Daryl's POV**

Alarmed amber eyes stared up at me for a solid two seconds before Eve's shoulders dropped, visibly relaxing.

A heavy sigh escaped mud-caked lips as she glanced down, before her eyes came back up to meet mine, a relieved smile replacing the panic-stricken expression from before.

I grabbed her slick muddy arm with both hands and she gripped back as best she could, and pulled her up enough she could almost get out.

It ain't enough, the mud covering every inch of her is too slick, every time she grabs something her hand just slides. My own grip is slipping every time I grab her.

My hold on Eve's forearm slid to her wrist and her foot slipped, slamming her chest against the root my foot was braced against.

Eve coughed hoarsely at the impact and her arm started slipping out of my grip as she started sliding down.

Her grip tightened on my arm but it wasn't helping much she was still sliding.

It was awkward to grab the back of her belt and under her arm but it was the only leverage I could get that didn't slip through my fingers(literally).

Leaning back, I finally pulled her over the edge far enough she got her knee up and we both fell back onto the dry ground. Eve tried to get off my arm but her hand slid and her jaw hit my forearm with a painful ' _clack_ ' before she managed it.

I flinched at the sound, knowing I'll have a bruise there tomorrow but as soon as she got up she rolled onto her back and took the fastest deep breaths I've ever seen.

"Thought I said I wouldn't come save ur ass" I panted, glancing over the raised root now covered in mud, into the sinkhole.

How long she been down there? That's gotta be at least 20 feet deep.

I glanced around before resting my arms over my knees. What the Hell is in this mud? It's like slim.

I tried to wipe some of it off on my jeans but it didn't do much, 'cept turn my knee brown.

I watched 'er reach up and push the muddy mass of dark hair out of her face, pulling some of it away from her mouth.

The drying grey mud covers almost every inch of 'er. It's even stuck in clumps on her eyelashes.

I watched her breaths slow and her face twist in disgust when she licked her lips and she coughed again.

"Thanks"

I stared at her for a second before nodding. "Yer welcome"

I still ain't used to hearing 'er speak. Startin' to wonder if I'll ever be.

She sat up and spit mud from her mouth into the hole, going to wipe her mouth on her sleeve but stopped when her eyes fixed on the two inches of sludge caked on it.

I watched her lean her arms on 'er knees, breathing in through 'er nose and out 'er mouth.

Her hands are shaking, and I can't see much of 'er skin underneath the mud, but I know she ain't _that_ pale.

Only time I've ever seen 'er hands shake like this was at the CDC, when we were locked in and she grabbed my shirt.

Eve ain't afraid a much —tries to hide it when she is— but everybody's gotta be afraid a somethin'.

She's claustrophobic, figured that out at the CDC, but I didn't think it was this bad.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

I leaned my no doubt muddy forehead against Daryl's shoulder. Half of it's to say thank you(even though I already did) but honestly, it's more for me than him.

I've hit my limit, I'm too exhausted to stave off another panic attack by myself.

Daryl didn't stiffen like I expected, like he usually does when someone touches him— or so much as stands too close to him, but I don't have the mental energy to read into it.

Focusing on his already normal breathing is helping me calm down tremendously.

I don't know how I thought of it in this state but I tried to match my breathing to his and was almost startled at how easily it helped calm the frenzy in my head.

Usually it takes me 5— 10 minutes to normalize but somehow I doubt it's even been two.

I finally lifted my head from his shoulder and a few seconds of silence passed before he grabbed my muddy gun from just behind us and stood up, offering me a hand.

"It's gon be dark soon."

I nodded and accepted his hand, getting to my feet. The mud's starting to dry and become crusted itchy dirt.

It could be exhaustion, but I'm 90% sure this mud's added an extra 10 lbs.

Daryl gave me a once over and I raised an eyebrow, wanting to know what's provoked such an 'in-thought' look. I doubt it has anything to do with my striking good looks at the moment. I pulled a clump of mud plastered hair off my neck and tossed it over my shoulder with a 'smack' on my back. I'm not even gonna think about why it made that sound.

"Let's go back to the creek first. Wash up a lil' before we head back." he started walking, scooping up his crossbow after wiping his muddy hand on his jeans.

It's not that bad is it? I glanced down at myself, only just realizing I look like a walking mud monster. I can only imagine what this looks like from his perspective.

The stuff of nightmares, probably.

I stopped smelling it a while ago but I don't imagine I smell like roses either.

I moved to follow him, glancing around for my muddy gun before I spotted it in his other hand.

Catching up, the burn in my chest lept to the foreground and the aching in— well, everywhere started up again.

This is the second time in what? two days? This has happened. It's starting to become a habit. A habit I need to get rid of as soon as possible.

Mmm, my head's splitting now. I'm so tired I could probably sleep just about anywhere if I stop moving for long enough.

* * *

I laid back in the water, completely immersing myself and ran my fingers through my tangled hair; shaking loose all the mud and debris I could.

The creek isn't exactly fresh clean water but it's better than what I was swimmin' in earlier, by far.

Besides, I was already drenched and covered in mud. I'd say this is a step up, but I'd kill an entire herd of walkers for a hot bath; luckily I don't have to.

I just have to ask when we get back to the farm and I don't think it'll take much convincing; considering I can now smell myself again and may or may have not have felt the need to puke once or twice after the first two or three dunks.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

I stood on the edge of the bank, leaning against a tree, keeping watch while Eve sheds most of her new layers.

It only took me a minute or two to wash the stuff from my arms and splash some water on the drying spots on my clothes. That bruise on my arm is already starting to form.

I glanced at the water, seeing if she'd come back up yet but she hasn't.

I watched for a solid minute, and she still hasn't come back up.

Unconsciously, I took half a step closer but right as I did, she came up with a splash like a swamp monster; hair tangled over her face like somethin' out of a horror movie.

I couldn't stop the snort that slipped but moved my attention back to the woods.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

Haphazardly moving my mop of hair so I could see, I glanced over.

I could've sworn I heard something like a laugh but that's—...unlikely.

My jaw went slack, leaving my mouth open to catch flies.

That small smile on Daryl's face had me so dazed I didn't notice I'd stopped breathing. Until my chest constricted, forcing me to inhale and nearly choking myself on the water that had dripped down my lip into my open mouth.

I choked for almost a minute before I could finally breathe normally again. I directed my gaze up at Daryl as I stood up.

He offered me a hand to get out of the bank but he looks so entertained I almost want to punch him. If he wasn't the reason I got out of that hole, I just might have.

Accepting his hand, Daryl pulled me out of the creek and I messily tied my hair back away from my face. It's tangled beyond recognition but for now, this'll have to work. It'd be worse to leave it in a giant rat's nest to coat my back and stick to my shoulders.

I rung my jacket out, tying it around my waist as we started walking.

One less thing clinging to my skin and it's unbelievable how much better I feel.

Still tired but a little more awake with how cold it is now. Soaked + sun going down + exhausted = I need a bath, a comfy blanket or heater of some type, and a nap asap.

As we walked, I noticed something white in Daryl's shirt pocket. At first I thought it was a piece of paper but it's sort of round.

I poked Daryl's shoulder and he looked at me, "What?"

I nodded to his pocket and he looked down to the little delicate white object poking out.

"Cherokee Rose"

I nodded, being aware of the Native American story behind the flower but I'm not sure if he is.

He doesn't look like the type to know that sort of thing but then again, neither do I.

He also doesn't look like the type to pick a flower. Why did he pick it?

In my experience there are only a few reasons why people pick flowers— people who don't have an affinity for them— and well...let's just say I really hope it isn't because he's lost hope.


	34. Chapter 34

We finally returned to the farm, just as the sun touched the horizon and began dying the skyline a warm hue.

The 4th random shiver in a half hour, ran up my spine and I peeled my shirt away my skin, trying to ease some of the cold.

I snapped the wet fabric against my skin, jabbing my thumb towards the house.

Daryl nodded, starting towards the RV but short stopped and pointed at his forehead, "You should have the old man take a look at that."

I touched my temple and hissed, finding blood on my fingertips. I almost forgot about this. It can't be that bad if I haven't felt the blood before now.

My stomach sank and regrettably something of a whine came out of my throat. I hope it doesn't need stitches.

I gave a thumbs up, and we parted ways. My step more apprehensive than before as I headed for the house.

I got many a curious look on my way but once I was inside, the look on Lori's face— _priceless._

If I didn't know she was a mother, that look right there would be the biggest dead give away short of walkers handing out limbs, free of charge.

"Oh my— What on Earth happened out there?" Lori rushed towards me from her place against the kitchen counter.

The other two women turned to find the walking flood that is myself at the kitchen doorway, while Lori worked to pull a stick out of my hair. At least I'm not a mudslide anymore. I'm fairly certain I would have been mistaken for a walker the moment I walked in.

I did expect this sort of reaction to some extent but a small part of me expected them to laugh or at least smile like Daryl had at the creek.

Hell, now that my life is no longer in danger and I can't feel my toes or fingertips, I could laugh about it.

I felt the broadening of a smile on my face, despite not being able to tell where my numb lips are, exactly.

I must've completely missed the question young Beth asked because the next thing I knew they're all staring at me.

Lori glanced at her boots like she— everyone around here tends to do before meeting my gaze. Oh no, I sense something unpleasant coming.

"Did you find anything?"

Abracadabra; just like that my pleasant mood is gone, replaced with a hollowing ache in my already pain riddled chest.

Even if I was one for words, I wouldn't have any right now. A shake of my head was all I could manage.

"Eve?"

My eyes snapped up to meet Maggie's and after a few seconds her face filled with sympathy; Not necessarily for me.

"Do you have any spare clothes?"

I nodded and moved to go back out to get my backpack but Lori stopped me.

"I'll get 'em. You go get cleaned up." She pulled another root off my jacket and was gone before I could protest and Maggie motioned at me.

"Come on, bathroom's this way."

I didn't argue. Despite not being overly fond of the idea of someone else handling my stuff. Even if it's only my backpack.

Exhaustion does strange things to my head but add what feels like hundreds of small aches and pains all over every inch of me, and I might as well be a robot.

* * *

Clouded water dripped from my hands while I painstakingly pulled small roots and bits of twigs out of my spidery hair. The water went cold almost half an hour ago but I still haven't been able to get even 2/3rds of these little bits out.

I know It's unlikely I'll get them all and I don't plan to, I just wanna get enough I don't feel them when I go to sleep tonight and believe me, as soon as my head touches that pillow I'm gonna sleep like a dead man.

I finally gave up, considering cutting my hair at this point, it's getting pretty long for my taste, and finished washing my hair out.

It's long but it's always been easy enough to manage; for that I'm grateful, especially now. It can be difficult when it wants to be but for the most part I don't see any reason to cut it just yet.

If it gets in the way it'll be a problem but I usually keep it tied back anyway. I'd rather not have to get in trouble before I decide to cut it though.

I caught sight of my reflection in the tub water. My head is still bleeding.

What am I doing?

Thinking about my hair, sitting in a bathtub, when Sophia's out there, alone in the woods like some horror movie from Hell.

It's bad enough I didn't find anything today but not only was I sloppy— I nearly got myself killed.

How much ground could I have covered if I had just paid attention?

If I hadn't been stupid and reckless— If I hadn't gotten my hopeless ass stuck, maybe I could have found her. Maybe Daryl would have found her if he hadn't needed to come fish me out.

If we'd met up as planned, we could have looked more. It wasn't even dark by the time we got back to the farm, we had plenty of time. Not to mention it took me almost 20 minutes to get most of the mud off in the creek.

It's dangerous in the dark but with the two of us we'd have been fine. We can take care of ourselv—...

I ground my knuckles into my eyes and got out of the bath.

Says the woman who fell in a hole, looking for a lost child.

I tossed my muddy clothes into the water. It's already soapy, and it's only gonna get more grimy cleaning them. I don't wanna waste any water. Or cause anymore damage than I already have today.

I gave my clothes a quick, angry scrub and it got the job done well enough I won't complain.

I dried off while they soaked and found my backpack leaning next to the door.

I stared at that bag for lord knows how long. My only thought being, I didn't hear the door open...

I swiped it off the floor and tore through it until I all but ripped my spare clothes out. Aka my substitutes for Pajamas.

I pulled the dark blue sweatpants on almost violently but when I went to do the same with the racerback tank, I stopped.

My fingers dragged over the letters 'Don't Quit'.

A deep sigh compressed my lungs as I let my forehead touch the counter where the shirt was residing.

Sometimes my own optimism makes it hard to believe I'm a realist.

Why is the person easiest to let down and you're least capable of resisting, yourself?

I pulled the shirt on without the excess fury and stared at the backward writing in the mirror before ringing out my day clothes and tossing my backpack over my shoulder.

Gathering up my things and draining the bath, I turned off the light. Leaving the small room in darkness, I made my way outside.

I was headed for the RV to retrieve what I had to leave with Dale yesterday and did a double take when I got to the edge of camp, seeing my tent already set up.

I looked around as if I'd get some sort of explanation but no such thing happened.

Don't ask me why I hesitated when I opened it. I don't know why I'm so paranoid, it's not as if a walker would stumble into camp, right past live people, set up my tent for me, and then just go back to wandering around looking for something to rip apart.

If that were true though, I would be less inclined to killing them on sight.

I tossed my stuff inside and drapped my damp shirt and jeans on top of the tent to let them dry overnight.

A chill struck me suddenly and I ran my hand over my arm, feeling the goosebumps. The water wasn't that cold was it? The water in the hole was, but I shouldn't be this cold after a hot bath and a change of clothes.

It's not even that cold out tonight.

I moved towards the most significant heat source, which was thankfully the fire, and sat in one of the camp chairs to let myself warm up.

Ten minutes later, Glenn and Andrea turned me into a burrito after seeing my shivering(I tried to hide that so well) and everyone gathered around for the collective meal that has somehow become part of our group's routine of its own accord.

Thankfully I didn't have any trouble eating after Lori handed me a plate of food. At least something has gone alright today.

Today wasn't a complete failure though; Turns out, Glenn was the one who set up my tent for me while I was gone today. I probably could've guessed that if my brain were working, my ribs would stop kicking, and I didn't spend the afternoon in a hole staving off panic attacks like it was my job.

I've got this profound sense we're all on some sort of camping trip, and the world isn't any different than it was before. It's not as unsettling as I would've imagined.

"Geez slow down, Joey Chestnut." Glenn chuckled next to me.

I looked at him, chewing a mixed mouthful of everything on— that was on my plate.

I pointed off into the trees, he turned, and I snatched something off his plate, shoving it in my mouth before he turned back.

A snort from Daryl came from my right and laughs broke out around me as Glenn turned back with a confused look.

"What?" He looked around at everyone as I swallowed.

"You might wanna think about defending your plate." T-Dog chuckled.

While Glenn wasn't looking, I snuck something else off his plate and popped it in my mouth before he looked down.

"Why—...Wait, where did..." he looked around until his eyes settled on me.

I tried my damnedest not to smile, I really did, but I was still chewing and the indignant sound he made almost made me spit-take as I tried to wash it down with my water bottle.

"You little—" Glenn stared at me with his mouth ajar but he's smiling, so he can't be too mad.

I shrugged. Sorry, I was hungry.

"Just so ya know, you come anywhere near my plate, you'll lose yer fingers." Daryl chimed in as I glanced at him.

The Hell you talkin' about, Dixon? There's nothing on your plate anymore. Smart man and duly noted, but still you have no room to talk. You don't exactly have the appetite of a baby bird either.


	35. Chapter 35

I finished applying the band-aid Dale gave me at dinner to my temple. I don't know if it's entirely in place, because what do you know I can't see my own head without some sort of reflection, but it feels like it's in place so I'm gonna call it my day's one and only win.

I flopped back on my sleeping bag, flinching when the bruises touched down and stared at the fabric roof.

I'm tired, I know I am, but my mind is too awake to sleep. And my back hurts.

I rolled onto my side, taking the pressure off one bruise field and seemingly onto another. It's gonna be a long night.

I shifted around for what felt like forever before giving in to the position that hurt the least and grabbed the small flashlight out of my backpack pocket.

Without my clothes clogging up space in my bag, it was easy to find the copy of one of my favorite books Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and flip to a random page.

Hitchhiker's Guide is one of the few books where random starting is actually fun. I've read it almost 30 times so I don't get lost anymore, but it's not like you really know what's going on anyway.

* * *

I let my eyelids drift shut, to let them eyes rest for a moment but when I opened them again, it was bright.

Shuffling, clinking, and rustling came from outside my tent while people moved about but I don't wanna get up so I closed my eyes again.

The warm sunlight streaming into my tent acting as the perfect space heater. The warm glowing feeling only sunlight is capable of providing.

Not too hot, not cold; goldilocks would be proud.

I don't know how my book managed to stay on my chest all night, but my legs tangled in the blanket and pulled my pants in all sorts of uncomfortable.

I could have gone back to sleep after some minor adjustments, except there's one problem. I don't have a blanket.

I looked down, and nope, that is not my sleeping bag like I thought it may have been but I recognize it. It's Dale's, and it was most definitely not here last night when I went to sleep.

Turning over, my book fell from my chest as I reached for my stuff; checking to see if it was all still here. My gear is still here, untouched, and as far as I can tell nothing's missing.

What I can't figure out is why someone would come into my tent and put a blanket on me. It was probably Dale, seeing as how this is one of his blankets.

What concerns me more is that I didn't wake up when someone opened my tent—...did I...close it last night?

I don't remember if I did. Did I turn off the flashlight?

I reached for the light and clicked it on. Well the batteries isn't dead so I must have. Or someone else did.

A sizzle from outside drew my eyes to the door flap, partially closed, and the smell of food wafted through.

All thoughts about who was in my tent last night dispelled at the smell of eggs and I groggily tossed aside my things and stretched my back out; twisting in ways that feel amazing but probably look like I broke my spine.

Several joints and bones popped and muscles stretched in bliss until I was satisfied.

I rolled onto my stomach, pushing up onto my knees and basked in the warmth before rolling up my sleeping bag and getting it out of the way.

My tent's not big, it ain't small but small enough that the bag feels in the way if I don't roll it up. Plus I'd like to be able to just grab it and go, should I need to.

I can live without a tent, but a sleeping bag is an enormous help; especially with winter on the horizon.

With the cozy blanket in hand, I pulled on my boots and stepped out of my tent into the bright rays, soaking up that vitamin D.

It's not as cold as I expected it to be. Usually sunlight itself feels colder in the morning, but it's actually quite nice today. I wonder what time it is. Does Dale still wind his watch?

I headed straight for the smell of food, dragging my feet a bit. It's not often I get to be lazy but I suspect it has something to do with the -frankly astonishing- amount of injuries I've sustained over the last few days.

My body's working overtime on trying to heal. Not to mention the amount of energy I've expended successively. It's like starting a new, tougher, workout routine.

Speaking of working out, I might wanna think about implementing something into my everyday schedule. Something for runners is probably a good idea, considering how much of that we do nowadays.

It's not likely it'll hurt me to run faster, or be stronger at this point.

"Mornin'. Did you sleep well?" Carol pulled my attention, hanging clothes on a clothesline of two strings strung between a pair of trees.

A content sleep-laced smile made it's way across my lips, just as my stomach growled.

"There's some breakfast over there." Carol smiled, looking like she could almost laugh. I can almost hear her comparing me to a teenager but the smile fell as she finished clipping a baseball t-shirt(no doubt Glenn's) to the line.

Her eyes downcast and I stepped forward, gripping her shoulder. She didn't look up, but I don't blame her. She doesn't have to for the tears pricking the corners of her eyes to be visible from this close.

I panicked, fumbling for a moment before hugging her(a bit awkwardly to be honest).

I'm not good with crying. I really only have one card to play.

I'm never sure about hugs either though. I don't know what's too long or too brief, and I find myself counting whenever I do. I count to 20, sometimes faster than normal but I've never had a complaint so I must be doing something right. Right?

Granted, I've never had many people to hug before. And without fail, I always feel awkward about it.

Being a good 3-4 inches taller than Carol, it's almost natural to rest my chin on her head but at the same time it's unavoidable.

Close physical contact makes me hyper aware for some reason, and as a result, I don't often miss much. Like when she sniffles, or breathes, and how she relaxed now that I've successfully prevented her from crying. I hope.

It could be my imagination though. I don't have a lot of experience in the 'social' field.

I pulled away and she looks a lot more 'okay' than before so I'm gonna go with, mission successful.

I turned to the ruffling of the tent behind me and watched Lori pull on her shoes, say a quick morning to T as he passed by.

I gave her a quick morning smile as she came over to us. I held up the blanket with a questioning look; hoping that maybe one of them know who the blanket

Lori shrugged, shaking her head and Carol mirrored her.

"Maybe it was Dale. I think that's his blanket and last night he said you'd get cold sleepin' like you were, without a blanket." Lori inferred.

"Which reminds me, you shouldn't leave your tent open if you're gonna sleep." she gave me a teasing shoulder nudge and the two cracked smiles.

Oh yes, definitely mothers. I smiled and rolled my eyes in good fun.

With a grateful nod, I went on a hunt for the owner of the magical 'On Golden Pond' but he wasn't in said vehicle when I knocked and peeked in the side door; nor was he on top, so I left it on the passenger seat.

I went back to my tent, looking for my day clothes but I stopped halfway back, seeing them on the clothes line.

I grabbed them to see if they were still damp, and smelled my shirt to make sure they don't stink. Finding nothing, I took them down, briefly wondering how I'd missed them in the first place and went back to my tent to change, and this time I'll be damn sure to close that flap.

A few moments later, I was out of my tent clothed and geared up to go back out today.

I was checking the sharpness of my blades, in case they've dulled, when the sensation of being watched crept up on me.

I looked up and sure enough, Andrea and T-Dog are staring at me, mouths catching flies.

"You just went in there, how can you be ready?" Andrea looked me over, incredulously.

I gave a wink and a wicked smile in place of a response as Rick and Shane came past us.

"Morning guys, let's get going"

I nodded, falling into step just behind Rick to Carol's Cherokee and stood between Daryl and T at the hood, around the map.


	36. Chapter 36

"Alright. Everyone's getting new search grids today. If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl found, she might've gone further East than we've been so far." Rick started.

"I'd like to help" one of Hershel's people came up next to Rick. I don't know his name, but he _sounds_ like a teenager.

"I know the area pretty well and stuff." He can't be older than Glenn, if he's even that old. If he is, he has a Hell of a baby face.

"Hershel's okay with this?" Rick glanced at us, uncertainly.

"Yeah, yeah. He said I should ask you" _B_ - _S_

I smiled tightly, preventing a laugh from bubbling up my throat. Oh he is _definitely_ a teenager. You are not a great liar, kid.

Only a teenager would make that sound like he's asking if he can go to a party.

"Alright then. Thanks" Rick turned back to the map.

Wait, really? Did you seriously just buy that?

Damn, Officer, I didn't think you were really that trusting.

"Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me. Anyone could've been holed up in that farmhouse." Always gotta be the party pooper Shane, don't you? Would it kill you to be positive for once?

"Anyone includes her right?" Andrea retorted. Oooo

"Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high" Daryl indicated with his hand before returning to the buttons on his shirt.

"It's a good lead" Andrea acknowledged

"Maybe we'll pick up her trail again" Rick leaned against the car on his palms.

"No maybe about it. I'ma borrow a horse, head up to this ridge right here. Get a bird's-eye view of the whole grid. If she's up there, I'll spot her." Daryl pointed to the ridge on the map.

"Good idea. Maybe you'll see your Chupacabra up there too." T-Dog mocked as Dale set the bag of guns on the hood.

Oh lord, are we really starting with this again? You're really beatin' the dead horse on this one. I thought this joke lost it's appeal after the second time, now it's just annoying.

"Chupacabra?" Rick looked at him with a confused 'really' look.

"You never heard this? Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a Chupacabra." Dale handed a rifle over the hood and the kid next to Rick snorted.

"What're you braying at, Jackass?" Daryl scowled across the hood at the teenager.

"So you believe in a blood sucking dog?" Rick, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you're being condescending.

"You believe dead people walking around?" Hah, touche. I think Daryl wins this round.

The kid reached for the gun that was passed over the hood but Rick grabbed it first, "Hey hey. Ever fire one before?"

"Well if I'm going out, I want one."

Daryl scoffed, "Yeah, and people in Hell want slurpees."

I most certainly did not snort, while he stalked off. That would be immature...

"Why don't you come train tomorrow?" Shane shifted his cap, "If you're serious I'm a certified instructor."

"For now he can come with us." Andrea took her gun off the hood and started off, motioning at the boy.

"He's yours to babysit then." Shane called after them.

Phew, for a minute there I thought I was gonna get stuck with him since me and Daryl are splitting up for today.

Rick finally looked to me and I pointed to where I'm going to search today; tracing the area on the slightly gritty map.

Rick nodded as he followed my finger, (I assume)mentally noting my route.

I'm going pretty far from everyone else, the farthest out any of us have gone, in case Sophia's gone farther than we've predicted.

Rick nodded, confirming where I would be searching and I wasted no time in going off on my own trek.

I headed for the woods without delay, and reached the treeline just a few minutes. Before I could enter the forest though, drumming thumps drew my attention behind me.

I turned and flashed an attentive smile at the sight of Daryl on one of the Greene's chestnut horses, stopping next to me.

"Ey, be careful today. I mean it. I ain't gonna be there to come look for ya when ya don't show this time."

I smiled but believe me, this time around I'm taking the warning seriously. I don't want a repeat of yesterday anymore than he does. My clothes still smell like marsh water and although it hasn't kicked in quite yet, my muscles are gonna make me pay for this later; all of it.

I'm not the only one who needs to be careful out there, you know. I pointed at him purposefully, with raised eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff. "I ain't the one who almost died in a hole."

My mouth dropped open in (somewhat)mock offense. Really? You have to put it like that? —He's not wrong, but still.

Ohoho, it's on now, Dixon. I will get you back for that comment. One day. When you least expect it.

I narrowed my eyes at him; regrettably the effect may have been diminished due to the smile that's trying to force it's way out. He gave a single nod.

I gave in and smiled, waving as we went our separate ways into the forest; Him to the right, me to the left.

* * *

Good lord, it's hot today. I'm sweatin' like a beast.

I smacked my neck for the 3rd time, making the small cut my nail gave me the previous time, sting.

I gotta cut my nails, but these mosquitoes are gonna eat me alive before any walker.

The sun's high and bright, and the day is starting to feel twice as long as yesterday.

It would've seemed tranquil— even safe, if I wasn't out here looking for a lost child in a world full of cannibalistic corpses. And you know...these little shits. I flicked a dead insect off my finger and wiped it on a tree as I walked past it.

I stopped to take a breather, waving my hand near my head in an attempt to rid myself of yet another insect.

I didn't know I wasn't a fan of bugs until now. Learn somethin' new every day. Glad I wore my jacket today, though or I'd have bites all over my arms by now.

I stared out at the wall of green and grey-ish brown, yellow light bouncing off leaves to shine down through the canopy above.

I should be about halfway through my grid if I'm as far as I think.

I took the compass out of my pocket, tapping the cover to make sure it still works.

I don't know why it wouldn't. I haven't used it before now and it's not like I've done anything that could break it. Yet.

It's just...somewhat reassuring to know that at least something's working for me these days.

I don't know what to do anymore.

Walking through the woods doesn't feel like enough. It never did.

I swallowed, kneading my lip between my teeth. I kicked a rock as I started walking again, shoving the compass back in my pocket.

I smacked my neck again— for the love of mashed potatoes— that is the last straw.

I ripped out my hair tie, pulling my own hair in the process and secured the elastic around my wrist, while I shook it out to fall around my shoulders and cover my damn neck.

Stupid freakin' winged syringes.

The breeze picked up and brought my newly loose hair over my shoulder, in front of me.

I jerked as something swayed in front of my face, nearly slicing a lock of my hair off before I could stop. Several seconds passed in slow realization of the "threat" being a band aid tangled in the ends of my hair.

Sheathing a blade, I touched my forehead, feeling a gross almost sticky scab instead of a band aid.

Beautiful.

I scratched my neck before going to untangle it as I continued my mirthless trudge through the woods.

It's starting to feel like a waste of time...a lost cause. Not just the band aid; all of it.

Searching the woods, walking on eggshells with Hershel, getting this damn band aid out of my hair—

I swatted my hair away, refocusing on the trees.

I've been by myself for too long. I shouldn't be allowed to think this much. Since when have I become so easily frustrated, and incapable of being on my own?

I've always been on my own. Just me in this riptide…

A laugh bubbled up from my belly before I knew it; bitter laughter. The kind that leaves you questioning what the Hell you're doing here.

Last time I was this frustrated, I broke my car's windshield and spent the day eating Oreo's and Ben & Jerry's 'Phish food' on the curb, outside a liquor store.

What is wrong with me?


	37. Chapter 37

**Daryl's POV**

I pulled the squirrel attached to my bolt from the tree as I passed, securing it with one hand while I guided the horse through the trees.

So far I've got a squirrel, and absolutely nothin' else.

I braced against the back of the saddle while the horse went down a tilt of the ridge before it leveled off.

A shine through the trees on my left pulled my attention.

"Whoa" I gave the reigns a tug, stopping the horse to look down at the bowl-shaped encirclement of a small lake, with a sloped ridge just up the other side. Where the water flowed down the rock, feeding the body below.

My eyes caught on something light and sorta soft pink near a driftwood log at the edge of the water.

I can't see it well from here, but it definitely ain't natural.

I dismounted the horse, tying a quick slip knot to the nearest tree so he don' wander off.

Taking my crossbow from my shoulders, I used my free hand to steady myself with the trees, going down the steep slope.

I reached down and picked up the dripping doll from the water's edge.

Stepping back through the shallow water, it sloshed around my ankles as I scanned the treeline.

"Sophia!" my voice echoed through the creek valley.

No response. Not like I expected one or anythin'.

I secured the doll to my belt and climbed back up(easier said than done).

Back on top, I untied the horse, mounted and moved on.

A crow's caw didn't distract me from looking for anything, but a flock birds flying out of a bush scared the horse.

"Whoa. Easy, easy." I pulled on the reigns to keep it from running. It's nervousness subsided, while I looked around to make sure that was the only reason it spooked.

I found nothing and turned back to the task at hand.

"Come on" I made kiss noises, with a soft tap of my foot to get the horse moving again.

I followed along the ridge, glancing down the slick slope as we reached the crest of the hill.

A sudden hiss and the horse panicked, rearing up.

"Whoa, whoa—"

Just as I saw the snake that spooked it, she reared again and threw me off the side. I barely got my foot out of the stirrup before I hit the ground.

I didn't stop there, I hit the ground again and my stomach turned as I left the ground again.

Reaching for anything, I tried to stop myself as I tumbled down the hill; past trees and hitting rough ground and rocks.

The world spun, too fast to get my bearings as I got tossed like a rag doll down the side of the ridge.

I grunted each time I hit the ground; hitting everything from my shoulder, to my ass, to almost my head.

Before I knew it, I was sliding on a hard slick surface on my back, head first.

My legs flailed in front of me, before I hit a crack in the rock and flipped onto my stomach.

My crossbow slid past me as I threw my hands out to try to stop myself.

They burned against the rock as I tried to regain some sort of control and my crossbow splashed in front of me before I flipped again right at the bottom and landed with a smack in the water.

I heard the pierce before I felt it. A vicious sting and aching throb exploded in my side.

I laid at the foot of the slope, struggling to catch my breath. Every intake hurt and exhaled as a grunt.

"Son of a bitch! Ah!" I tried to sit up but ended up laying back again.

The pain in my side flared so intense it drowned out everything else but the throb in my head.

I grit my teeth and tried to look down again, turning despite how much it hurt to get a look at my side where the 4 inch tip of a bolt stuck outta my side.

I laid there for longer than I should have before I could turn myself over and crawl through the water.

It's easier to move in the 5 foot(at least) deep water but submerging my side hurt more than getting out.

I held my side as I got to the shore, the water went from 3 feet to no feet real quick and I stumbled out of the water, almost face planting into the dirt on the bank.

Every small move pulled at the bolt, or made it move and once I was knelt at the edge of the water, I took my knife, cut the sleeves off my shirt and tied the ends together before tying it around the bolt as close to my skin as I could get it, to stop every little thing from moving it.

I don't think it hit anything important, or I'd probably be dead already.

I panted, looking up for my way out. First time around climbing outta here was easy but from down here— right now, that ridge looks a lot steeper.

I held my side as it throbbed, looking back at the dirt beneath me. That climb was intimdatin' the first time round.

I tried to push it out of my head as I struggled to get up. My side pulled but once I was on my feet again I went to what was probably a fallen tree at some point and found a large stick, testing it's strength out in the mud, to give me something to lean on before I make this climb.

A branch snapped and I froze, looking at the bushes so fast my head spun for a second.

Cautiously, I leaned and moved my head to try and see through the thick edge of the woods but it's no use. I can't see anything.

I took a wary step back, reaching around for my crossbow and my blood ran cold.

Where is—

I looked over and under my shoulder, on some level hoping I was just missing. I just had it—

My eyes darted towards the water.

The rustling continued and I backpedaled, almost tripping over my own two feet as I got back in the water, trying to be as quiet as I could. No splashing.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

I've been out here for hours.

I've searched almost my entire range, hours on my feet and trudging through the bushes— tracking down a trail that's not even here— with nothing to show for it.

I scratched my neck and pulled a strand of stuck hair from my lips; wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand.

I haven't seen any walkers really, aside from one that was already dead. It would have concerned me except it died because there was a tree on it's head. A tree that looked like it'd been struck by lightning. It probably happened a long time ago. There was hardly anything left of the body.

So there are two ways to see this. It could be a good thing that I haven't found anything, she might not have gotten all the way out here, which means we are searching in the right places; Or it could mean her trail is colder than we thought.

Oh I've never been religious but, God, I really hope the others are having more luck.

I glanced at the sky, listening to the bird song for a moment.

I hope Daryl's bird's eye view has panned out. I can't really see the ridge from here, not under the canopy, but it was a good idea.

Now if only one of these ideas or searches would produce some results.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

I searched the water with the stick, pushing it along the bottom until it hit something that didn't feel natural and I reached my arm under.

My fingers grazed over something smooth and I found a grip, trying to raise it out of the water, I knew it was my crossbow. I know it ain't that heavy but pulling it out of the sticky mud on the bottom, and up through 4 feet of water, it felt like it weighed 60 pounds.

No wonder Eve was such a mess. I'm surprised she managed to pull 'erself as far outta that mud as she did; Stuff's like glue.

I made my way back to where I was before, my crossbow in hand this time.

It's gonna be dark in a couple hours. I don't have a horse anymore, means I gotta make it back on foot.

The first step up what might as well be a mountain side, was excruciating.

The ache felt like a white-hot rod's been shoved through my side.

My chest heaved. Every step, climb, jump, pull up, every move made me grit my teeth so hard my jaw hurt.

Heh, and I told Eve to be careful.

Never thought I'd be the one who needed savin' with 'er clumsy ass around.

I grabbed hold of a thin tree, throwing my stick up onto the next ledge. I took a quick breath, making sure my crossbow strap was secured around my arm and pulled.


	38. Chapter 38

I tested the ground with the stick but it gave way again. I watched the chunk of dirt and rocks fall. Half this ledge is loose dirt. I don't even know how the tree(twig) I'm holdin' on to grew 'ere.

I tested some more ground before lookin' at the stick in my hand. This thing isn't gettin' me anywhere anymore. I tossed it off, lettin' it roll down the steep drop with the rest of the dirt.

I panted, looking up. I jumped, trying to reach the next tree but came up short and slid back to my less than stable spot on the cliffside.

My side pulled again and I winced, groaning.

"Aw come on. You done half. Stop bein' such a pussy"

I psyched myself up with a few quick breaths, brought my leg up and tried again.

I swung over and grabbed the tree but my fingers slid off and I ended up right back where I was before. Only the tree I had in my grip loosened and started to pull out of the dirt.

The ledge under me started to crumble and I tried to hold on to the trees; looking for anything I could grab hold of but the ground disappeared from underneath me, and that falling sensation hit me right before my back hit the ground.

The world spun and I landed on my side over and over before finally hitting the ground on the side my bolt was stuck through.

I rolled off it, gasping and grit my teeth against the endless waves of pain shooting spikes up and down my side, as I laid back on the ground.

My vision blurred and something warm ran down the side of my face before everything went dark.

* * *

My face scrunched as I forced open heavy eyelids.

Blue. Sky's still blue. I stared at the sky before green caught my attention. Everything's...blurry, and it smells like mud and wood rot.

I grunted, trying to turn my head, stop it from spinning.

Black?

That a person?

I squinted at the fuzzy blob of a person stopping above me.

Who's—…

A face came into focus as the figure crouched next to me. "Why don'cha pull that arrow out, dummy. You could bind your wound better."

"Merle" I felt a smile pull across my face.

"What's goin' on here?" his eyes drew to my side. "You takin' a siesta or somethin?"

"Shitty day, bro" I groaned, trying to turn my head back to him after it began to lull to one side.

"Mm, would you like me to get ya a pillow? Maybe rub your feet"

"Screw you" I grumbled.

"Huh-uh" he shook his head. "You're the one screwed, from the looks of it. All them years I spent tryna make a man of you. Dis what I get."

My eyelids almost drifted shut but I forced them back open and to focus on Merle.

"Look at ya. Lyin' in the dirt like a used rubber."

"You gonna die out here, little brother. And for what?"

"A girl" I swallowed, tryna get the sore lump outta my throat. "They lost a little girl"

"So you gotta thing for little girls now?"

" _Shut up_ "

"Cause I noticed you ain't out lookin' for ol' Merle no more."

"Tried like Hell to find you, bro" My mouth tastes like dirt.

"Like Hell you did. You split, man. Lit out first chance you got."

"You lit out. All you had to do was wait. We went back for ya. Rick, Eve, and I." I grunted. "We did right by ya"

"This the same Rick that cuffed me to the rooftop in the first place? Forced me ta cuff off my own hand?"

My vision blurred again and I blinked hard, looking at his hand, trying to refocus.

"This him we're talkin' bout here? You his bitch now?"

" _I ain't nobody's bitch_ "

"You're a joke is what ya are. Playin' errand boy to a bunch a pansy-asses, niggers, and democrats" Merle chuckled.

"Watch your mouth, _douchebag._ " Another blurry figure came up behind Merle.

"You're nothing but a freak to them. Redneck trash" Merle's voice is as condescending as always.

"Careful Merle. You know every time someone lies an angel falls from heaven. They ain't gonna be too happy when they get down here." I blinked hard, and the long dark hair came into focus. "Pants don't catch on fire for no reason."

"Nahh, they're laughing at you behind your back." Merle ignored her. "You know that don't you?"

Eve crouched next to me, glaring at Merle who finally looked, glaring right back.

Never thought I'd see the day someone out-glares ma brother.

"Well I gotta little news for ya, son. One a these days, they gonna scrape you off their heel like you was dog shit." Merle pressed

"Now _that's_ shit." Eve countered. "Just cause nobody ever liked it when you were around, doesn't mean we don't like Daryl."

"Oh I get it now. It ain't the little girl yer after now." Merle laughed. "It's the _chatterbox,_ here _._ Ain't it?"

Everything started going fuzzy and my eyes started closing.

"Daryl. You've gotta stay awake." What I think is Eve's hand, touched my shoulder.

"Hey" Merle smacked me in the chest, bringing my vision back into focus. "They ain't your kin. Your blood."

"You don't need to be blood to care 'bout someone, Merle. Why d'you think war vets are so close?" Eve glared at him again.

"Hell if you had any damn nuts in that sack of yours you'd go back there and shoot your pal Rick in the face for me. Now you listen to me." Merle grabbed my jaw, forcing me to look at him.

"Ain't nobody ever gonna care about you except me, little brother. Ain't nobody ever will."

"That's already not true, and you know it."

Eve stood and looked over her shoulder before running. I watched her run until she was out of sight but something didn't feel right.

"Come on. Get up...before I have to kick your teeth in." Merle pat me roughly before he stood up and started kicking my foot, pulling on my boot.

"Let's go"

I blinked and he was gone.

I looked down at what's pullin' on my leg and jerked back. A surge of adrenaline shooting through me.

A walker chewed on my boot and it became very real when it looked at me.

I kicked it in the face with my other foot and spotted my crossbow just feet from me.

I reached for it but the walker was on top of me before I could grab it, clawing at my shirt.

I pushed on it's chest, going for my knife with the other hand and stabbed it in the shoulder.

I punched it, knocking it off me and pinned it to the ground; trying to pull my knife out of it's shoulder.

It grabbed my hair and I rolled, hitting it again until it let go.

I got up, spotting another walker headed this way, and went for the stick next to me(the same one I'd tossed earlier) instead of my bow.

The walker got up and came at me, and I swung at it's knees.

Something in it's leg crunched and it dropped to ground but started to get back up. I lunged at it, using the stick as a bar to pin it before I it above my head and slammed it across the walker's nose.

I slammed it down again on it's nose, and again on it's forehead, but it still wasn't dead.

I flipped the stick and stabbed it down right through the center of it's face.

I glanced up at the other walker comin' towards me, and went for my crossbow.

 _Where's my bolts?_

With a split second idea, I fell backwards and grabbed hold of the one in my side. Don't think just—

I pulled it from my side, biting back what tried to rip free of my throat until my jaw hurt, I ripped the bolt from side with a painful grunt and grabbed the crossbow.

I held it in place with my boot, putting the bolt between my teeth and grabbed the line. I pulled it back, biting down on the bolt; putting my shoulders and arms into the pull as much as I could to take the pressure off my sides.

It finally locked and as fast as I could, I put the bolt in place and fell back as the walker came up fast.

I barely had it trained before I pulled the trigger and the bolt pierced straight through it's forehead.

The walker dropped dead on it's stomach next to me; the bolt pushing further into it's head, coming out the top of the skull.

I panted, laying my head back against the sandy dirt.

That was too close.

My crossbow lulled against my heaving chest, almost hitting me in the chin and I moved it down to rest on my stomach while I recovered.


	39. Chapter 39

**Eve's POV**

I sighed, staring at the red cloth nailed to a tree.

I've made it all the way to Rick & Shane's grid, and not a damn thing— not so much as a feeling of going in the right direction.

My grid is twice the size of everyone except Daryl's. If I haven't found anything, she probably never made it out this far, and I don't know if that's good or bad.

I scratched my neck and wiped the sweat from my forehead.

I'm not giving up. Not yet. It's just— ...it's hard not to lose hope of finding her alive at this rate. If at all.

I shook my head and ran my tongue over my dry lips. I should've brought a water bottle with me. I'm gonna be dehydrated by the time I make it back to the farm.

I don't think I've ever felt more dejected to have finished something in my entire life.

Aside from a few years ago when I ate two entire pizzas in a half hour. Those I regretted finishing but I more than paid for it then.

What am I doin?... thinking about pizza, when I'm supposed to be finding a lost child.

Come on, kid...please be alright. Just hold on a little longer. We'll find you. I promise.

Abruptly turning, I began the trudge back.

Last I knew, things were going well with Hershel and his family, and letting us stay here but… I don't know what's going on right now. I still feel like we're swaying in the wind.

It could be because I haven't spent nearly as much time on the farm as I've spent combing these woods.

It's definitely the safest place we've been so far. Massive sight lines, wide open areas, water sources, woods, plenty of food and resources. Even some defensible positions. The safety isn't in question.

It doesn't feel stable. And I'd like to say I don't know why, but I've got a few ideas. And they all start with one person.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

"Daryl...wake up. You have to get up. Get up! Daryl, wake up!"

Sunlight streamed against my squinted eyes.

After a hazy moment, I came back to where I am but there's no one else here. Not unless ya count the two walker bodies on the ground by me.

I could'a sworn I heard somethin'. There ain't nothin' but trees, bushes, and dirt.

I laid back, looking at the sky before I pulled myself up.

My side pulled and ached as I sat up, and I could feel the blood running down my skin. If I don' take care a this I ain't gonna make it back to the farm.

Stripping off my shirt, I folded it and used it to stop the bleeding from the hole pulling out the bolt left.

I glanced around again while tying the knots, like I was expectin' someone to come outta the trees but no one did.

I don't know why or who I was expectin' to see but what matters is they ain't 'ere.

"Son o' bitch was right" Only person who's gonna help me, is me.

I grabbed my crossbow and hauled it over my shoulder as I stood. I went over to the downed tree in the edge of the water and sat down, pulling the squirrel from earlier off my belt.

I splashed my knife off in the water, and cut it open.

I stabbed my knife into the wood in front of me and dug through the squirrel, popping pieces of it into my mouth.

I licked my fingers, looking up at the ridge but somethin' at the base caught my attention. I reached around me, checking for the doll and sighed. Musta fell when I stood up.

I finished the squirrel, pulled my knife out of the tree as I stood and picked up 'er doll; securing the doll in my waistband.

I took the shoelaces from one of the walkers and tied 'em together before cutting the ears off the walkers and stringin' 'em together.

I put my knife away and put them around my neck. One less thing to worry about now. I'll be just another walker to any that come stumblin' by.

I grabbed another stick, striding determinedly to the mountain side I've been tryna climb all damn day.

If I fall again, this time it better kill me.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

I trudged up the farm's dirt road, heading into camp.

I see Andrea and T are back, and Shane & Rick— everyone except Daryl's already back from their grids.

Somebody better have some good news today.

As I got closer, T-Dog looked at me and I searched his face. He shook his head and I looked at Rick and Shane. Neither noticed, as Rick's busy glaring at Shane from a distance.

My fingernails dug into my palms.

Damnit!

I kicked a rock as hard as I could, sending the grey pebble soaring into the side of the RV.

Everyone turned my way, but I couldn't bring myself to form an apology smile, so I walked away, harshly rubbing at my head.

I didn't mean to scare anyone but God— we're running out of time. Every second she's out there alone, her chances of surviving go down.

It's already been too long. If we don't find her within the next 3 days, we're never going to.

If she hasn't found food or water, or shelter by now, she's already dead. And if she has found those things but the food or water made her sick, she won't be able to keep going on by herself.

Jesus— I hope Daryl's had more luck today.

I pulled out my hair tie and ran my hand over my head, through my hair.

Where is he anyway?

He's probably staying out longer. He does have a horse, he can cover more ground than the rest of us(on foot) combined.

I stormed into my tent, not bothering to close it and tore my shoes off with a level of frustration I haven't had in a long time.

My hair fell over my cheeks, dangling in front of me as I sat down, resting my elbows on my knees.

What are we gonna do if we don't find her?

"Eve?" a hesitant voice drew my attention to outside my tent where Carl was standing, looking at me warily.

I let out a breath I didn't know was stuck in my chest and gave him a tired smile.

I scratched my neck, motioning for him to come in. He hesitated but took his shoes off and sat in front of me.

"You don't have to worry you know. We're gonna find her."

I looked at him and an honest smile spread across my face. I ruffled his hair.

Reassurance is supposed to be my job, kiddo.

Carl squinted to the side of me, "Why's there a bandaid in your hair?"

I looked down and huffed that section of my hair away from me, scowling at it as it drifted back down.

Here we go again.

I tried to untangle the sticky contraption but after two minutes of watching me struggle Carl scooted forward, "I got it"

I let him push my hands away and take over trying to get it out. This little sucker is really tangled.

While he did that, I awkwardly reached for my backpack and dug through until I found my nail clippers. I might as well take care of all this while I'm just sitting here.

* * *

I was almost finished clipping my fingernails and Carl's got it mostly untangled but I gotta say, this is the last thing I expected to be doing today.

He's doing better than I was though.

"What're you doing?"

I looked over/through my hair, at the opening where Glenn was standing, watching us.

"She's got a bandaid stuck in her hair."

Glenn started laughing and I flipped him off before realizing Carl is present and quickly retracted my finger.

Damage done, he's already giggling.

"Aha!" Carl pulled the little devil free and Glenn cheered holding out his hand. Carl high fived him, then me.

Carl got up and put his shoes back on, and I reached for my own, pulling them on less angrily than I'd taken them off, and we all exited my tent.

"Oh uh, Lori and Carol are cooking dinner in the house for everybody." Glenn turned back to us.

Oh good, I'm starving. I haven't eaten all day(I think. Sure feels like I haven't).

I nodded, giving him a pat on the shoulder and a thankful smile.

Speaking of everybody, Daryl should've been back by now. Where is that hunter?

I went over by the RV and got on the roof, where Andrea's keeping watch.

I picked up the binoculars next to her and gave a brief smile before scanning the treeline.

* * *

Half an hour passed by and I've been pacing a trail in the RV's roof.

He should be back by now. Something doesn't feel right.

He should've been back before me, he's got a horse.

Did something happen? He's Daryl, what could've happened? He's still human.

I looked at the edge of the forest for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes.

"Would you please sit down? You're burning a hole in the floor." Andrea pleaded, motioning to the chair next to her.

I chewed my bottom lip before sitting but it wasn't two seconds before my leg began restlessly bouncing and my eyes flickered to the treeline once again, scanning for anything moving.

"You're really worried about him aren't you?" I glanced at Dale who came up next to the RV.

I didn't answer but I can't shake this.

It's been too long.

I got down and grabbed Dale's wrist without thinking, making him jump. I checked his watch before looking at the sun.

That's it, I can't take this any longer.

Abruptly walking away, I checked my hand gun's clip before grabbing my jacket out of my tent and pulling it over my shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Glenn jumped up from his seat by the firepit as I pulled my night vision goggles out of my backpack and pulled the strap over my neck.

"I'm going to look for him." I started running for the treeline, knowing full well if I don't, someone will try to stop me.

Rick was right there in camp. I have to get away before he can talk me outta this— and I do believe he's capable of that. It's his damn superpower.


	40. Chapter 40

**Daryl's POV**

I looked up at a bird caw, keeping a tight grip on the small tree in my grasp, and watched 3 or 4 of 'em circling above the canopy.

"Please, don't feed the birds."

I tilted my head back, looking up behind me and watched my brother walk up to the edge at the top of the ridge.

I looked back to what I was doing, repositioning my grip before taking the next step.

Merle's rough laugh taunted me from just yards above, "What's the matter, Darylina? That all you got in you?"

I pulled myself up backwards onto the next lip, groaning while my side throbbed, and grabbed my next hand hold.

"Throw away that purse and climb."

I held onto the thick enough roots, shuffling my feet along the inches wide ledge.

"I liked it better when you was missin" I tried to concentrate on climbing but Merle continued to make it difficult.

"Oh come on, now. Don' be like that. I'm on your side" Merle laughed.

My crossbow hit me in the leg as I moved for the hundredth time. Hanging it off my neck ain't exactly easy but it'll just get in the way anywhere else. I'm gonna have a Hell of a bruise later.

"Yeah? Since when?" I reached for a small tree, using it while I carefully maneuvered my feet along the unstable dirt.

"Hell, since the day you were born, baby brother. Somebody had to look after your worthless ass."

I almost scoffed. "You never took care a me. Talk a big game but you was never there. Hell, you ain't here now. Guess some things never change." I pulled myself over the next ledge, cutting another 3 feet off my climb.

"Well, I'll tell you what—...I'm as real as your _Chupacabra_ "

"I know what I saw." I grit my teeth as I pulled myself up backwards again and turned around to find my hand holds. Pullin' myself up backwards works a Hell of a lot better than what I was doin' before. It don' hurt as much.

"Yeah, and I'm sure them shrooms you ate had nothing to do with it, right?" Merle mocked.

"You'd best _shut the Hell up_!" I glared at him. I've had it with this.

" _Or whaaaat?_ You gonna come up here and shut my mouth for me? Well, come on and _do it_ then, if you think you're man enough. _Hey_! Kick off them damn _high heels_ and _climb_ , son." Merle's laugh grated on my last nerve.

Fine, then. Have it your way.

I grit teeth, my blood boiling, and grabbed the trees so hard my knuckles turned white.

"You know what? If I were you I'd take a pause for the cause, brother. Cause I just don't think you gonna make it to the top."

I swung my legs up using a small tree, getting closer to my asshole of a brother by the step; ready to punch him out the second I get up there.

"Come on. Come on, little brother. Grab your friend Rick's hand."

I slammed my hand into the dirt at the top. Right in front of his feet and pulled myself up.

My side hurt like a bitch, my throat feels like sandpaper but I got up.

I made it to the top and used the big tree beside me to stand up in a rush.

I looked for Merle, through the trees in every direction cept the one I came from but he's gone.

"Yeah you _better_ run!"

I glanced at the sky, and started back the way I came.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

I'm not a tracker but horse tracks aren't as difficult to follow as I thought.

It'll take me hours to catch up at this rate though.

He's been gone all day and I've no idea where he actually went aside from the vague 'ridge'. He could've gone miles on a horse, a lot faster than I can on foot.

God I'm being paranoid. This is probably gonna play out like it always does.

I find him. He's fine. I scare him— almost get cut or impaled. He makes fun of me for coming to find him, teasing ensues, and we either search as a team for a while, or go back to the farm (relatively)unscathed.

I'm gonna be in so much trouble when I get back. I can already see a disgruntled Rick pulling me aside and scolding me for taking off like this.

' _That was a stupid and dangerous thing you did, Eve. At least take some backup if yer gonna go runnin' off into the woods.'_

I let out a sigh.

Sometimes I think Rick's too good for this world. Other times, he's exactly what it needs.

I stopped to take a breather and check my surroundings before leaning back against a tree. I've been following these tracks but I feel like I've been going in circles.

I blew a heavy, frustrated sigh through my nose.

He's probably already made it back by now and I'm just wanderin' around out here like an idiot. Hell— he's probably tracking _me_ down right now.

Maybe I should just go back. If he's still not back, _then_ I'll get Rick and some others to come out here and help.

I turned around to follow my own trail back but I don't feel right; Not doing something about this feeling beating my gut like a pinata. It's gradually been getting worse since it started but nothing's satiated it so far.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

Finally back on the farm, where I can see the house; 'bout damn time.

My chest heaved as I dragged my crossbow behind me through the grass, each pant burnin' my dry mouth and throat.

I looked up from the ground to somethin' movin' ahead of me. T, Shane, Rick, and Glenn were running towards me. I stopped when Rick trained his gun on me and they all stopped in front of me.

Ugh, this shit again.

"Is that Daryl?" Glenn panted. Who else would I be?

"That's the third time you've pointed that thing at my head."

The four of them staggered with relief, and Rick lowered his gun with a sigh; his shoulders visibly relaxing.

"You gon' pull the trigger or what?"

My head snapped to the side, my shoulder hit the ground hard as the thundering crack of a gunshot kicked through the empty sky.

A dull burn ignited on the left side of my head. I heard Rick yellin' but I couldn't tell ya what he was sayin' if I wanted to.

Rick pulled the shoelace from my string of ears out of my mouth and grabbed my arm.

I reached for my head and pulled away bloody fingers.

"I was kiddin'"

Shane grabbed my other shoulder and they hauled me onto my feet which refused to help.

The world was spinning even before I was upright but the edges of my vision faded, I blinked and everything went black.

* * *

"I found it washed up on the creek bed right there. She must've dropped it crossing it somewhere." I pointed on the map, trying to keep my hands behind my head to keep my arms out of the way while Hershel tied off yet another stitch in my side.

"Cuts the grid almost in half." Rick glanced at Shane by the window and I felt another prick.

"Yeah, you're welcome." I looked down to watch Hershel doin' up the final stitches.

"How's he lookin'?" Rick looked to Hershel.

"I had no idea we'd be goin' through the anti-biotics so quickly." Hershel cut the string and went over to a bowl on the dresser to wash his hands.

"Any idea what happened to my horse?" he looked at me.

"Yeah the one that almost killed me? If it's smart it left the country." I shifted on the bed to keep from slidin' off.

The stitches are uncomfortable and pinch when I turn just a bit in the wrong way, but it ain't worse than gettin' shot by ma own crossbow.

"We call that one, Nelly. As in Nervous Nelly. I could've told you she'd throw you, if you'd bothered to ask."

I rolled my eyes as Hershel walked over to Rick at the foot of the bed.

"It's a wonder you people have survived this long."

Rick glanced at the ground, like he usually does when 'e feels guilty 'bout somethin'.

"I should'a gone with Eve. She knew somethin' wasn't right— that you'd been gone too long. I should'a listened. I'm sorry."

"Hey man, that ain't yer fault. You couldn't a gone with 'er if you tried. She's the one who just took off." Shane shifted his hat, glancing out the window.

My face scrunched at the center of my forehead, "What're ya talkin' about?"

"Eve took off a couple 'ours ago. Said she was gon' look for ya." Shane paused, glancing at Rick and Hershel. "She ain't back yet."

She went lookin' for me?

Rick brought his eyes up from his boots, meetin' mine. "If she's not back in the next half an hour, we'll go look for 'er. I won't make the same mistake twice."

I ain't entirely sure why he's tellin' me this but I nodded and watched Shane and 'im leave the room.

I heard talkin' in the hall but didn't listen, instead I looked at the ol' man.

"'Ey, who shot me?"

"Andrea, I believe." Hershel glanced at me before headin' for the door.

"Get some rest. You'll stay in here tonight so I can keep an eye on you." Hershel left the room without waiting for a response.

Never thought I'd be lucky someone ain't a good shot. If Eve, Rick, or Shane had taken that shot, I'd be dead.

Speakin' of Eve. She best be alright. I ain't comin' to pull 'er out a hole this time if she gets inta trouble.

For someone who can take of 'erself, that woman gets into a lot a trouble.


	41. Chapter 41

**Eve's POV**

Oh damn, I can smell the food from here.

I jumped the fence to the farm instead of going all the way around and undoing the gate, I don't have the patience for that right now.

I don't know how everyone does it. I can't idle like they do.

I have to keep moving— be doing _something_ ; Occupy my brain or my body, I can't just sit unless _that's_ my task. If that makes sense.

I can keep watch and sit still as stone when I'm hiding but that's _part_ of what I'm supposed to be doing. My patience isn't lacking, my ability to more or less stand down, is iffy at best.

When every second counts, I—...I can't let my mind wander to cold places, or begin to question my resolve. I might not get it back.

Exhausted, my feet dragged themselves as I walked through my strangely deserted camp.

I peeked in a tent or two, but there's not even someone on the RV, taking watch. The fire isn't lit. Where is everyone?

Looking around, my eyes landed on the house. The lights are on up there, so there must be _somebody_ here.

Oh God, please don't tell me they went looking. Nothing good ever comes from any one of them going into the forest to search for either me, _or_ Daryl.

I made my way up to the house with my lead legs and tried to jog up the porch steps. Big mistake.

Reaching the top step, my boot caught on the top stair and I nearly went face first into the screen door.

My hands flew up reflexively; smacking against the door frame before my cheek made contact.

My breath fogged on the glass of the screen door. That was a close one.

Straightening, I glanced around to make sure no one saw that before I went inside and saw Maggie, Beth, Jimmy, and Glenn sniggering my way.

I stuck my tongue out at them as I got closer. Everyone was in the dining room eating dinner.

Why wasn't I told about Thanksgiving? Although, I don't remember it being November. I could be mistaken what with the apocalypse and all, but I could've sworn it was—

"Welcome back" Rick turned, setting his fork down.

I nodded in acknowledgement, taking notice of the strange relief on their faces.

Kay I know my last few days haven't exactly been the most reassuring display of skill, but there's no reason for this amount of disconcert in my few hours of absence.

"We weren't sure when you'd be back, so I left you a plate in the kitchen." Carol pointed over her shoulder.

I flashed a grateful smile and gave her shoulder a thankful pat as I made my way across the room and to the kitchen.

I grabbed the plate off the counter, along with a fork and guzzled my water before going back into the other room.

"Does anybody know how to play guitar?" Glenn asked, half turned in his seat to face the rest of the adults lining the room. I'm sorry Glenn, but you sit at the kiddie table with the rest of the under 25-ers.

The silence he was met with was awkward even for me.

Something happen I don't know about? I've only been gone a few hours and everyone here looks like someone spit in the juice.

"Dale found a cool one" he tried again.

Stone cold silence...and a few —frankly unnerving— long stares; the type you get from a parental figure when they're simultaneously trying to figure out why you thought that was a good idea, and trying to punish you for it.

Good lord, I _really_ can't leave for more than ten minutes without something breaking, can I? What am I, the babysitter? Rick and Shane were _cops_ why am I the peacekeeping/authoritative figure? Is this what internal affairs feel— felt like every day?

Glenn half-sigh half-chuckled, "Somebody's gotta know how to play"

Okay, this is gettin' sad.

I raised my hand— fork but nobody was looking at me. It occurs to me, they might not know I'm here— er back. I am eating in the doorway instead of the table. They're all kinda just...looking at their plates or glaring at one another.

I tried not to sigh as I leaned against the doorframe and shoveled another bite of mashed potatoes in my mouth, but it wasn't easy. I feel like a foreigner watching other people try and fail to speak my native language. Not funny failing though, more like...awkward and offensive.

The tension in here is so thick I can almost taste it.

"Otis did" Patricia finally spoke up.

…

I slowly put my hand down, awkwardly returning to filling my empty stomach.

Mmm— son of the round table, I've missed mashed potatoes. Is there any salt?

"Yes, and he was very good too." Hershel gave her a long look I don't quite understand. Best I can describe, is something encouraging, or sympathetic— maybe both. Probably both.

Glenn awkwardly turned back around and returned to his food. I spotted the shaker on the table and stepped forward to snag it and coat my meal.

I didn't notice before but I don't see Daryl here. He wasn't outside either.

"He's in the bedroom."

I looked at Dale, who's staring at me with that knowing look he gets.

How did he—? He must've seen me lookin' around.

I swear, you scare me sometimes Dale. I don't think I've ever met someone quite as perceptive as you.

Why is Daryl in the bedroom?

Whoa, kay— what's with the smiling at me now? Why is Carol— why are people smiling at me? Why do you look like they're trying not to laugh?! What is going on!?

"Eve, you've got somethin' on your uh..." T-Dog motioned at his chest, failing to not grin and I looked down.

Oh that's lovely. Thank you _so much,_ Dale, for distracting me to this point. You're a true friend.

I scooped up the bite of mashed potatoes getting cozy on my cleavage and shovelled it into my mouth, snapping my jaw shut.

 _Just for that_. I started cleaning my plate of all traces of mashed vegetable. Pausing only to scratch my neck.

Carol stood from her place at the end of the long table and smiled at me as she past into the kitchen. "Finish your dinner then you can go see him. Yeah?"

I nodded, stepping out of her way and once she was through, I got another serving of the offending food from the center bowl of the table.

Wow, kay. We should never do this again.

I think we've just set the world record for how fast things can turn awkward. You lot have one skill: making shit tense, and usually it turns into a fight but this feels more...mmm, post-fight.

Again though, why is Daryl in the bedroom and not out here eating? Is he brooding about somethin'? Is that why it's awkward as shit in here?

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

Where the Hell is she? It's already dark. If she fell in another hole—

The door opened behind me and I looked over my shoulder, half expectin' it to be her but Carol came in with a tray.

I pulled the sheet up over my side and chest, covering as much of my skin as I could and turned away from her.

"How you feelin'?" Carol asked.

"Bout as good as I look" my voice is rougher than usual; sore from breathin' so hard earlier.

"I brought you some dinner. You must be starvin'." Carol's voice came out quiet as usual, but softer than normal.

I glanced at it but honestly, I don't feel much like eatin'. The squirrel was enough.

There was an awkward pause, and I expected her to just leave but she ain't movin'.

Carol finally gave a small tight smile and I thought that would be the end of it but apparently not. She leaned over, and as much as I hate to admit it, I flinched.

That made her hesitate but she still kissed me on the temple.

I focused on the sheet farthest away from her, picking at the loose strings. "...Watch out, I got stitches."

I thought she was gon' leave after another awkward silence but she started talkin' again.

"You need to know somethin"

I looked back over my shoulder.

"You did more for my little girl today, than her own daddy ever did in his whole life."

Shifting, I turned back to the section of the blanket my fingers are workin' on. "I didn't do anythin' Rick or Shane wouldn't a done."

"I know." her voice cracked; a smile in her tone. "You're every bit as good as them...Every bit." Carol began to leave before she stopped and turned back.

"By the way, you've got a visitor."

Visitor? I looked at her as she left and a second later the Swamp Monster herself walked in.

"Look what the cat dragged in. The Hell ya been?" I shifted onto my elbows to see her more clearly.

Eve's lips pulled into a tight line, anticipatin' mockery. I was thinkin' bout it but she's draggin 'er feet; Looks almost as exhausted as I felt earlier.

Eve trudged over and flicked my leg. I moved it, letting her sit on the edge of the bed and as soon as she sat down, she sighed, blowing out 'er mouth.

Head lulling to the side, her eyes fell on the bandages and I watched her eyebrows knit together.

"I fell"

She blinked, straightening her neck to look directly at me.

Good lord. I can almost hear 'er sayin, "Into a truck?"

"What're ya my mother? You gon scold me?"

Eve smiled with a 'pfft' and rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

The lighthearted atmosphere didn't last long. She leaned over, resting her elbows on her knees and looked at 'er hands.

As usual she's got a few scrapes, but it ain't surprisin'.

"Guessin' you didn't find nothin' either."

She shook her head.

Damnit. Where the Hell can that lil' girl be?

Eve smacked my wrist away from my head, startling me. I didn't even realize I was gonna touch the bandage.

"Jesus, yur hands are freezin'" How long was she out there? Hand felt like a damn ice cube.

Eve looked at 'er hands before breathing on them and rubbing them together.

We sat in (somewhat)comfortable silence and I picked at the tray a bit. The juice or whatever didn't help my throat much but it's better than nothin'.

The mattress shifted when Eve did, and I watched 'er scratch a red blotch on 'er neck and pull a velvet pouch from 'er pocket.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

"Wanna play cards?" I took the cards out of the sleeve and shuffled them in my hands.

Daryl looked at me, less startled than usual at my voice, scoffed and scooched over a bit.

I toed off my boots and sat criss-cross on the bed, setting up the cards.

"Go fish or Texas hold'em?"

"What're you, five?" Daryl scowled at me incredulously.

"Texas Hold'em it is" I smiled, dealing.


	42. Chapter 42

**AN: Trigger warning. Physical & Emotional trauma, traumatic childhood, descriptive panic attacks, suggestive trauma, etc.**

 **Skip by pressing ctrl + f and copy(ctrl C)/pasting(ctrl V) the phrase: '** I'm not even sure I wanna know anymore. **'**

* * *

Daryl pulled up his blanket again for the 9th time in ten minutes and I've finally had enough of it. It's bad enough he's barely touching that tray Carol left. As far as I know, he hasn't eaten since this morning.

I understand why he's hiding— trying, to hide those scars.

My shoulder rolled unconsciously. A knot tied my stomach, sinking by the second and forming a pit deeper than the one I was actually in the day before last.

And here I thought my gut was done havin' somethin' to say.

...Maybe it's time.

It's not like I've been waitin' for a "special moment". Even if I was, this would be it. Wouldn't it?

Before I could talk myself out of it, I set my cards down(face down) and slid my jacket off.

Daryl looked at me curiously, and when I grabbed the rim of my shirt he lurched, "What're ya doin?"

I pulled the fabric up, being careful to keep the front of it from rising too high and twisted until I knew he could see them.

The circular burn scars on my shoulder blade.

It was quiet before but it's deathly so now.

I side-eyed him as he took several uncomfortable but examining glances, before forcibly fixing his eyes on the cards in his hand.

Huh, he doesn't usually have a problem staring at things. When it comes to stuff like this though… good to know he's not as insensitive as he likes to believe.

Attempting to ignore the pull in my chest, I swallowed the extra saliva in my mouth. Geronimo.

"When I was 13, I was livin' with this family with two other girls like me...The parents treated us well. Sent us to school, the mrs made dinner, bought us new school clothes, shoes, helped with our homework, asked how our day went when we came home."

Daryl looked up from his cards to watch me carefully. Almost the way he looks at people he doesn't trust.

"They were the nicest host family any of us ever had by far… 'til our foster father's drinking friends came 'round."

"Every Sunday. The wives would go out with their friends for girl's night, while their husbands played cards or watched the game in the living room downstairs."

"They drank, smoked. Talked about work, sports, their wives. All that nostalgia crap from high school and college."

I shifted, tryna force a bit more air into my lungs than they want and swallow the constricting muscles in my throat.

"Every Sunday night...like clockwork, one of 'em would come stumblin' up the stairs to our room, the room the three of us shared."

Daryl shifted; Something cold and burning setting in his gaze. I could only bring myself to take glances at him the more I recanted.

"One of the girls was younger than me—9 I think— but the other was much older. Nearly 18. I don't remember their names anymore. Something starting with G or M."

"...Whoever came up, would drag out the older girl. If she refused or fought back, they'd threaten to take one of us in her place."

Daryl stiffened, his finger stopped picking at the corner of a card he was glaring at.

"Every time she came back, it was well past midnight. She'd come back crying, shaking. Lookin' like she could fall down at any moment, and a few times she did. Barely makin' it through the doorway."

"I'd help her into bed, lock the door ...push one of our heavy storage chests in front of it, and lay with her while she cried 'erself to sleep."

"I wanted to help— make it stop but...I was just a kid. I didn't know there was somethin' I could do about it. Until some afternoon we were watching a movie, just the three of us."

"I don't remember why our foster parents weren't there or even what movie it was, but I remember the exact moment I thought of it, like it just happened. And I couldn't stop thinkin' about it."

"Couldn't even sleep that night… Next morning when we went to school, I went to the gym coach and asked him to teach me to be a fighter."

"He said no."

"What responsible adult would teach some 13 year old how to fight without their parents okay? I thought that was the end of it, I'd have to find another way, but I didn't even get to the door before he said, you can't teach someone to be somethin' they already are."

"First thing he taught me was, violence is just a means to an ends, but there's more than one way to fight."

'It's easy to teach one, but no one can teach you the other, Rider. That's somethin' you either find on your own, or it finds you.'

"He was one of those real philosophical people you see in movies— it was almost unreal." My lip quirked up remembering the time I compared him to the old man on Karate Kid and his face when I said it.

'Child, that is the first and last time you compare a proud black man such as myself to some ancient Chinese guy teachin' a teenager to wax a car.'

"Everyday after school from then on, he trained me in mixed martial arts. It was brutal for a 13 year old but 6-7 weeks down the line, he told me there was nothing else he could teach me...Said I was the fastest learning student he'd ever seen let alone taught and asked why I was so committed."

"...Why were ya?"

I didn't expect him to be curious, let alone voice it. He's been so quiet this whole time. Hasn't even asked why I'm telling him this— which in all honesty is just a bit unsettling.

Part of me actually thought he would've asked me to stop by now. It's weird when he's quiet and I'm not.

"...—I never answered him but, when your life —or others you care about— are on the line, you either learn quick or..." I inhaled sharply, "Or face the fallout."

Daryl looked down at the cards in his hand; givin' me the distinct feeling he knows exactly what I'm talkin' about.

I suspected before but now I don't doubt he's been somewhere 'round there himself.

I don't think he's ever put his into words. I certainly haven't before. I just...never felt the need to before now. Honestly I'm not sure why I'm doin' it now.

I could've easily gone the rest of my life without tellin' another soul. No one questions my silence for long.

"Right around then must've been when I quit talkin." I startled myself by voicing that thought.

That's never happened before; Speaking without realizing, before it's too late.

"Why?"

"No longer had any reason to, I s'pose. Looking back, I've never been much of a talker. Before, I only spoke when I needed to, usually to ask for a hand. After, I didn't need help anymore. I knew how to help myself."

Daryl nodded, glancing down at the split he's picked in the top of a worn card in his hand.

Now that I think about it...It's not such a wild guess now to assume we had similar childhoods.

He didn't ask how I got these scars(and that's a lovely reminder of the Joker). I recon he has some of his own, if not similar.

He hasn't asked any questions really. Hasn't even looked confused for the most part— like I imagine most would be during a conversation like this.

"...Did ya leave?"

I caught Daryl's eyes for the first time since I opened my mouth.

Leave? Wha— I shook my head.

I didn't leave then but in retrospect I probably should have. I never would have left without the other girls. I wouldn't have left them there. Not in that place.

"Sunday came back 'round. Before that week's drunk 40 year old stumbled up the stairs, I told the other girls to grab their go bags. Every kid in the system has o— had one...even if they were hidden. Some of us took it so far as to hide two. One in the house, and one at a separate location, offsite. In case we couldn't go back, or needed two for whatever reason."

I wonder if that blue backpack is still in that drain pipe? It's been around, what? 20 years since I stashed it. The cookies in that plastic sack are probably long inedible by now.

The blanket shifted, and I glanced to make sure my cards hadn't flipped and given away my hand.

Uhhh, where was I? Oh, "I told 'em to go out the window. While I hid just inside the bathroom at the top of the stairs, outta sight."

"Before then I never thought I'd be thankful for that notorious top steps creaking. I don't remember moving. It just happened. One minute I was waitin' for it, the next..." I stared at the cards in my hand. The ace of spades warping into polished wood steps, in that dark staircase.

"My bare foot hitting his chest. Smellin' like smoke and beer… And watchin' him fall backwards down the stairs. The bottle in his hand shattering, glass scattered over the steps."

Is my hand shaking? I clenched my hands tight, bending the cards under my fingertips.

"...I never saw him move...No bruises. No blood...almost like he'd drunk too much and conked out."

A cold sweat set in on my neck; my hands growing clammy.

Dark looming eyes of the foster father fixed on me from the bottom step.

"I don't know how— or when my foster father got there...but he was so—" Every muscle in my body tightened; Pain radiated from my jaw up through my skull.

The murderous eyes of my foster father burrowed into me, with every step he took.

"I don't remember what happened...if I ran or not...doctor said it was shock or memory blockage— my brain trying to protect me or something. But I didn't make it to the window like they had. If that's even where I was going."

"I'm not even sure I wanna know anymore. All I remember is that man above me, takin— taking the cigarette from his mouth, and that red glow disappearing from my sight."

I only realized I was rolling my shoulder when my elbow brushed Daryl's knee.

Forcing air into my lungs, my fingers started tingling. I looked at my hands shaking.

I can't remember a lot of what happened, but I remember that like it's still happening.

"...The neighbors must've heard something and called the police, but by the time shields got there, he'd gone through 4 whole smokes. Didn't take more than a single drag from any. Some took more than one smudge to put out."

"I know what he planned to do. His belt was clue enough but he never got that far." I rubbed my sweaty palm off on my knee, focusing on the pattern of the cards.

"Probably didn't count on the neighbors coming back from their date early."

I can feel Daryl looking at me and part of me wants to look up but I can't. Not yet...I'm not far enough yet.

"What happened to the other two?" I could tell from Daryl's voice he was uncomfortable but not in the way I expected him to be.

It could just be my imagination— probably is, but it sounds more like he's uncomfortable that I'm uncomfortable, not with my telling him this.

Maybe it's the sheer amount of talking I've done in the last hour. It's more than he can handle.

The question about the other girls is more than a welcome distraction from the other stuff, but it still took me by surprise. He's just full of that tonight. Or maybe It's me who's off their game.

"I never saw 'em again."

I can barely remember their faces anymore. Nevermind what they would look like today, if they're still alive somewhere.

"'Ey" I flinched when Daryl touched my knee; Harshly reeling back to the present. Before the bud could touch down, I put as much mental distance between me and then as possible.

I tried to swallow, acid burning in the back of my throat. My chest pulling and burning. My vision swam, my stomach soaring like it would standing on a cliff edge.

Oh God, no, no, no, no, no—

"'ey"

I was wrong— you can still be afraid of something after it's long gone.

"Eve!" Daryl grabbed my wrist and my eyes snapped up so fast it made me nauseous.

Breathe. It was a long time ago. We're fine. He's dead. They're all dead. Never coming back.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

"What's goin' on?!" The door flung open, and Beth looked between us.

"I don't know— go get Hershel, now"

Beth nodded and ran down the hall, shouting for her dad.

Eve grabbed my wrist, breathin' like she's runnin' a marathon. Her other hand gripped at her chest tightly. 'Er knuckles are white but she's still shaking.

The Hell is happenin' is she having an asthma attack or somethin?!

Rushed, heavy footsteps came down the hall and Hershel, Beth, and Maggie came through the door a second later.

"What happened?" he came up to her and Eve put her hand up to stop him in his tracks.

"Don't know, she was fine a minute ago. What the Hell's happenin' to 'er?"

"She's havin' a panic attack." Hershel answered.

This is the same thing that happened when she got outta that hole. And the CDC.

She was havin' panic attacks? I didn't think panic attacks were like this. I thought you were s'posed to get all scared, and bolt.

"Has this happened before?" Hershel asked Eve, but glanced at me too.

Eve nodded, returning her hand to her chest but s'far as I can tell it ain't doin' shit.

"I'm gonna need you all to calm down. You'll only make it worse." Hershel looked at me, and glanced over his shoulder at the two girls.

Eve's nails dug into my wrist as she inhaled. Amber eyes blinking several times a second; way faster than 'ey should.

This is becomin' a habit.

"Is she gonna be okay, daddy?" Beth held onto her sister's arm almost as tightly as Eve held my wrist.

"Of course. She'll be alright. Ain't that right, Eve?"

Eve looked at him, and nodded but it don't look like she was payin' attention.

"I want you to match my breathin' Eve."

Eve looked like she was about to roll 'er eyes but clamped 'er mouth shut and forced herself to breathe through 'er nose.

Hershel breathed with her. In through the nose, out the mouth, until her grip finally loosened on my wrist and 'er breaths were gettin' further and further spaced.

"Is this really all you can do for 'er?" Maggie tentatively approached her father from behind.

"Unfortunately." Hershel pulled a chair over from the wall and sat in front of Eve.

"I know it's a scare, but it's somethin' she has to get through on 'er own. Best thing you can do for 'er is ask what she needs and comply."

"For future reference" Hershel looked at me, glancing at Eve's vice grip on my wrist. "Don't ever leave 'er alone if she's havin' an attack. Even if she tells you she's fine. Don't touch 'er either unless she says so. Just stay with her. Help 'er focus on breathin' and wait 'till she's recovered."

Guess I know why she flinched before. I gave a brief nod, watchin' Eve calm down.

A tense few minutes ticked by with only breathin' until she licked her lip and finally let go of my wrist.


	43. Chapter 43

**Eve's POV**

My hand's still shaking and it will be for awhile, but that's alright. It's never as bad as it used to be. Maybe some day it'll be gone.

Inhaling a long deep breath, I collected the scattered cards in my lap, reshuffling them to fully distract myself for a few seconds.

I haven't had an attack so bad in years. In the last few years it's been several close calls but...this time everything I know and use to deal with them flew right out the window.

I've been handling them on my own for so long, it's strange for someone else to actually know what to do.

I looked to Hershel, "Thank you"

"There's no need to thank me. I trust you know at least a few of your triggers?"

I nodded, running my tongue over my dry lips.

"It seems you have things well in hand, then. Come on, girls. Let's let them rest." Hershel stood, motioning at his daughters.

I quirked my eyebrow as the three of them shuffled out, closing the door behind them.

I glanced at Daryl and his expression is almost identical.

Wait, don't tell me they think….

Awwwwkward

I shook my head, clearing my throat. Whatever, it doesn't matter.

Daryl shifted, laying back down with an uncomfortable pinched expression. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say he's in pain from sitting up.

I raised my cards and resumed our game, in hopes of erasing awkward tension. And, may also be to avoid the assault of questions that usually rains down after an attack.

Can we please skip this part, just this once?

"How long you been…?"

Damn

"Having panic attacks? A while."

So close. If the tension had been just a little more awkward, he probably wouldn't of said anything.

"They always like that?"

I sighed, resigning myself to this conversation. "More or less. They haven't been that strong in a while though."

"..." Daryl nodded, looking back at his cards and rearranging them in his hand.

…Is that it? That's all he wanted to know? He's not gonna ask why I have panic attacks, or what they're about, or— well I guess he already knows what they're about.

What the Hell. I'm not usually one for this, but this time, I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, and just take the win.

* * *

I rolled my shoulders and stretched my back, popping my spine. That's what you get for sitting in the same position for a solid hour without so much as turning your head.

My shoulders hate me. Not as much as my thighs, or my heels for trudging around all day but still, I've had worse. I'd gladly take sore muscles over broken bones any day.

"In a lot a ways, I'm grateful for being in that house."

Daryl looked at me like I just declared I'm gonna blow up Batman's girlfriend, after proposing to a lawn gnome.

Think I just remembered why talking is tiresome. What was I trying to accomplish by telling him all this again? Whatever it was, I think I missed. By a long shot.

"What in the Hell could make ya grateful about that place?" His hoarse voice makes him sound angrier than he actually looks. But I don't understand why he's angry, in the first place.

Most people would'a been surprised, yeah, but not angry like this. Then again, he isn't most people. Neither am I.

"If i'd never been in that house, I never would'a learned how to fight, or why it's important to when others gives up. If I hadn't been in that house and that stuff hadn't happened. If I didn't struggle afterwards, I'd have never figured out how lucky I've been. I never would've gotten these to remind me." I gestured to my shoulder.

Daryl looked at me like a lunatic. "You call that luck? Why would ya wanna remember?"

"I didn't for a long time. But I met somebody once. By sheer chance, and she told me something I've never forgotten. All a scar means, is you were stronger than what tried to break you."

"I'm 90% sure she was quoting something and I don't think she meant it to be taken so seriously, but… it helped. Still does."

"Point I'm tryna make is, it could have been a lot worse. I'm still here, and they aren't. So I'd say I got the better deal."

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

No wonder she could stand up to Merle. And I thought he was the toughest person I ever knew.

I don't understand this woman. How could someone just move on from somethin' like that?

She had a panic attack barely half an hour ago, and she's actin' like it never happened.

Eve glanced at her cards, rearranging 'em in her hand and I scowled at my own.

"If yer expectin' me ta spill my guts now, forget it." This is as good a time as any to keep playin'.

She laughed and I almost dropped my hand.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Everything was quiet for a bit, just the sound of cards before Eve clicked her tongue as she lost, again.

"You ever play Blackjack?"

I nodded, handing over my cards and watched her shuffle 'em.

"The Hell we gon' bet with?"

"..." Eve looked around, reaching over to the side table and opened the drawer. She dug around for a second before fishing out coins with a shrug.

She handed me the deck and started divvying up the coins.

I watched the treetops sway through the window, while I shuffled.

"You can actually see the sky out 'ere."

Eve hummed, looking out before setting the coins down and getting up.

She opened the window a crack, letting the breeze in. I didn't notice how stuffy it felt in 'ere before the rush of cool.

I expected her to sit back down right after but she stood there, lookin' out the window.

For such an expressive person, she can be hard to read when she makes that vacant face. But she only makes it for a couple reasons.

"There ain't a lot of walkers in this area from what we've seen. There's every chance she's alright, and just hold up somewhere waitin' for someone to find 'er."

Eve nodded but she don't look convinced.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

"But it's a big forest out there, Daryl… She could be anywhere." I watched the tops of the trees rustle with the cold night breeze. The smell of oak, metal, and something I don't even want to think about wafting all around us, even inside the house.

That smell— that...permanent stench of death, is everywhere. Staining the world, and no amount of vegetation, precipitation, and wind will ever be able to cleanse it. Not in our lifetimes.

It's everywhere. Clinging to every crack, every memory. It'll take centuries for it to be gone; whether humans are still around or not.

"As much as we'd like to, we can't search forever. Sooner or later, we're gonna have to face the music."

"No we ain't." I looked back at Daryl.

"We're gonna find 'er."

"I know we will. I'm not doubting that."

I leaned back on the edge of the bed, looking at all the specs on the window. "But will we find her with a heartbeat?..."

* * *

I ultimately won but the whole last half of the game is honestly a bit vague. I felt like I was on autopilot.

Daryl fell asleep near the end(I think I might have dozed off for a few too) so I'm not sure if I can even consider this winning.

I was well on my way to conking out, myself. Having unintentionally used his ankle as a pillow a while ago.

It wasn't as uncomfortable as I would've expected. Either that or I don't have enough energy for my brain to bother recording the information.

How comfortable Daryl's ankles are for sleeping isn't exactly priority information, under any circumstance I can think of.

Something outside the room clinked and jolted me to a state of awareness.

I slapped my leg, before realising my gear was on the floor; my having ditched it after Daryl won the first round of Blackjack.

I glanced at the window, seeing how dark it had gotten. If I had to guess, it's the darkest time of night; just before dawn.

Yawning, I sat up, careful not to wake Daryl and stretched my stiff shoulders. My spine cracked loud enough to make me flinch.

I cast a glance at Daryl to see if he'd woken up at that.

Daryl's a light sleeper— most everyone is nowadays I imagine. I've been on watch long enough to know who is and isn't likely to wake up to the slightest sound.

I waited a few long seconds, scraping my teeth over my bottom lip. His chest rose and fell with every influx of breath and I waited a good 4 beats before —carefully— dragging myself to my feet.

The floor's cold, even through my socks. I'm not used to walking around without my boots anymore. And isn't that just sad. I hated wearing my shoes in my apartment before.

Now though, it almost feels uncomfortable not to have them on. Makes me somewhat anxious; not being ready-able to run at the drop of a hat.

Quietly collecting the cards, I stuffed them back into the velvet pouch where they belonged and shoved it in my pocket before moving the clinky coins back to the drawer.

Too bad I'm not a light sleeper. It could come in handy nowadays.

I sat on the floor and pulled my boots on, before grabbing my gear. Silently cursing at every little sound the metal made even though a mouse would likely be louder.

Moving closer to the bed, I made sure Daryl was still asleep. I don't know how he can sleep with his hair stabbing his eye like that, or his arm at that angle for that matter. Maybe he's more exhausted than he let on. I wouldn't be surprised.

He's not exactly forthcoming, and I did kinda keep him up longer than I probably should have. Both of us were up long past we should've been, to be honest.

My hand ghosted over his forehead, mindlessly moving the strands away before I pulled back like I'd been burned.

I closed the window and turned off the light, slipping out of the room without another sound. Closing the thankfully not squeaky door, behind me.


	44. Chapter 44

Wandering outside in the dark was harder than I imagined. I'm not exactly accustomed to the layout of the Greene's house, but once I made it outside, the bitterly cold night breeze made me regret not falling asleep inside.

If I wasn't awake before, I am now. Mother of Pearl, it feels like an ice age out here.

I zipped up my jacket as high as it would go, fighting off a shiver, and crept down the porch steps; making a beeline for my tent.

I don't want to wake anyone up but I can't see too well, I'm freezing, and forgive me for dragging my feet now and then.

I made it to my tent and got inside as fast as possible, shutting out the cold with the thin veil supposed to protect me from the elements.

I fumbled over my stuff in the dark, searching for my spare clothes and changed quickly. I pulled my hair tie out, letting my waterfall of dark chocolate cascade over my shoulders.

If my hair didn't help keep me warm and hide better(albeit minutely), I'd probably cut it all off.

I should probably cut it shorter anyway but that's future me's problem.

Yawning, I curled up in a tight ball under my sleeping bag; zipping it up well over my head. I scratched my neck and hid as far into the bottom of the sack as I could cram myself.

The whole thing will be a cocoon of sleepy warmth by morning, if I have anything to say about it.

It took a while before it was warm enough to let me sleep but the exhaustion helped send me off, the second the temperature was tolerable.

* * *

My stiff eyelids peeled open. The light is minimal but I can still see through the black fabric around me.

For about 3 seconds, it was a comfortable, sleepy warm. The type of warm that makes you wanna take a cat nap, but it quickly grew suffocating in the shrinking space.

I scrambled to pull myself out of my sleeping bag— just get it off my head, so I could breathe and calm down in the morning sunlight seeping through my tent.

Note to self, no matter how damn cold it is, cramming my claustrophobic hide to the very bottom of a sleeping bag is never a good idea. Especially if the zipper is crap and prone to getting stuck.

In a flurry of less than graceful movement, I wiggled out of my bag like there was a snake and crawled towards the exit; needing to get outside before things escalate out of control. One panic attack in the span of 24 hours is enough for me.

As soon as I was out, the breeze hit me, pushing my bedhead over my shoulders to tangle further in the wind.

I took a deep breath of the fresh, light morning breeze; which brought the smell of crisp dew and breakfast with it.

Oh lord, that smells amazing.

I turned back to change into my day clothes as fast as humanly possible. I need to wash the ones from yesterday too, they're— ...not here?

They've gotta be, I'm certain I left them right here by the door last night.

I pulled apart my clothes, dug under my sleeping bag, and tossed things every which way but they're not here.

Where could they— What time is it?

I pulled my shoes on and left my tent once again, in search of answers.

Sizzling turned my head to the communal campfire. My mind derailed from finding my clothes at the growl of my stomach, and I jumped to the track of seeking food.

I spotted Carol knelt by the pit, making scrambled eggs and was beside her in a flash.

My mouth watered and she smiled, handing me a plate.

"You're up late. Did you sleep okay?"

I smiled and gave a thumbs up, gratefully taking my plate and snagging a fork from a nearby plastic container.

I don't remember how it came about that Carol cooks breakfast but for the sake of everyone, I'm glad it has. Lord knows what would happen if it were left up to me, or Glenn, or Andrea— we'd starve; or wind up with charcoal poisoning or something. At the very least, our tastebuds wouldn't stand a chance, they'd be wiped out in an afternoon.

I took a seat next to Daryl and began devouring my food as if someone would steal it off my plate. Hey, it's happened before. A long, long time ago, but it happened. Which means it could happen again.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

I watched Eve inhale 'er food, while I took time actually chewin'.

Does she know she eats like that? She's always like that with food. Don't matter what it is, either she eats it, er …stashes it.

I didn't think kids in the system actually did stuff like that; thought all them rumors were bullshit. Guess some habits ya never kick.

Before yesterday I didn't even know she was in the system. I just assumed she was like everyone else 'ere. Had a family before all this, and whatever.

It ain't like she advertised it. She don't advertise anythin'. Sharin' just ain't somethin' she— either of us do.

Eve stood up, bringing me out of my thoughts and I watched her go back to her tent, ducking inside before she came back out with her gear.

Slowly people started waking up, and within the hour everyone was up and doin' stuff.

* * *

I laid in my tent, pokin' holes in the "window" with one of my bolts.

I managed to poke 4 before I heard someone coming. I thought it was Eve before Andrea's voice came from the doorway.

"Hey" She stepped into my tent. "This is not that great, but uh..." she handed me a book as she sat down.

I opened the book, flicking through the pages. "What, no pictures?"

Andrea smiled guiltily. "I'm so sorry. I feel like shit."

"Yeah, you and me both" I set the book down, readjusted my pillow behind my head and glanced at my bandaged side.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, but if there's anything I can do..." Andrea shook her head.

"You were tryna protect the group. We're good." I glanced at my arrow before looking back to her.

She gave a resigned tight lipped smile and stood, stepping out.

"But hey"

She paused, looking over her shoulder.

"Shoot me again. You best pray I'm dead."

Andrea's smile quirked up and she turned, almost running smack into Eve, who turned her shoulders last second to avoid 'er.

"Ooph, sorry" Andrea touched Eve's elbow. I haven't noticed Eve tense like that when she's touched, before.

Eve smiled dismissively at Andrea, letting her pass.

She looked at me with a slightly raised eyebrow, as she stepped inside and sat where Andrea had a second ago.

I shook my head, returning to poking holes in the window. "Came to say sorry for shootin' me."

Eve's eyebrows shot to her hairline. Her amber eyes lookin' more like gold in the direct sunlight over her face.

"What, ya didn't know?" I scoffed.

Eve made an incredulous noise and shook her head. She pointed to my side.

"Nah. How d'ya think I got this" I turned pointing to my head.

"This s'where I shot myself with this." I waved the bolt in my hand.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

You did what?!

"Fell, my ass. What in Merlin's name happened out there, Daryl?"

Daryl stared at me for several seconds before he sighed, gave in, and told me the whole story.

Jesus, and he tells me to be careful.

At least I didn't shoot myself, and get shot again by someone in my own group.

Because you know, nearly dying once isn't enough.

I stared at him and he rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Yeah, yeah."

"Yer doin' gun training today, right?"

I nodded, pulling my hair tie off my wrist and held it with my lips. I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it up as I went, until I had all of it.

"And yer still goin' out after that?"

I nodded again, pulling the elastic band around my hair, twisting & pulling over and over, 'til it was all secured.

I pulled my reason for being here outta my pocket and stood, tossing the velvet pouch at Daryl.

He caught it and looked at it for a second. "Thanks. I won' have to read a book without pictures for awhile."

I chuckled on my way out, ducking under the rim of the tent. If there's one thing I know how to do, it's entertain with a deck of cards.

Now, why in the army crawling Hell, did Andrea shoot Daryl?

I know he can be a pain -he's a Dixon- but what in Merlin's name could he have done to deserve a shooting?

What was she thinking?

She doesn't know how to handle that rifle. It takes thousands of hours of practice to be able to shoot a rifle like that. Honestly I'm shocked she hit him at all.

A noob like Andrea certainly wouldn't know how to take wind, range, or mirage into account. That's probably why she didn't hit him but… now that I think about it… that was an incredible shot.

She's never handled a rifle before— to my knowledge. She obviously didn't know what she was doing or she would'a had him dead to rights.

I bet'cha I know what she did wrong other than not doing calculations. It's a rookie mistake. She didn't exhale on her squeeze.

Thank the stars she didn't or Daryl would be dead. And she would follow suit.


	45. Chapter 45

On my left, Shane produced a loud whistle sharp enough to make me flinch and clap my hand over my closest ear.

"Oi! Peach man"

I sent a glare at the side of his head as I held my ear, before leaning over the hood of the yellowish Cherokee once again.

"Creek flows South, past that farm house Daryl found. Maybe Sophia dropped the doll there, current brought it downstream." Rick continued from the head of the hood, after that startling interruption from his partner.

You'd think he could hold out on having a peach 'till we're done talkin' about finding a lost child.

"So what, you think she took this road here then she went North?" Shane ran his finger over the map, returning his focus to the man on his left.

"Yeah. What's up that way?" Rick looked to Jimmy on his left.

"Housing development. It went in maybe 10 years ago" Jimmy answered, resting his chin on his palm opposite of me.

"Take a run up there after gun practice." Rick looked to Shane. "I'll hold down the fort here, but take backup." He urged.

"After what went down with Daryl, I don't want anyone going out alone— that includes you." Rick pointed at me, "We stay in pairs."

"I'll take suggestions on a partner" Shane turned as Glenn came up with a basket; taking a peach off the top.

"See how they do on the range, then take your pick." Rick turned, taking his own fruit.

I waved my hand, passing on the offering of food for once. I don't wanna eat right before I go out. Not if running is all but a guarantee. Even if we're doin' gun training first.

...He's not making eye contact.

"Thanks" Jimmy took a piece of fruit.

I eyed Glenn suspiciously and watched him look over his shoulder. My eyebrows knit together, following his line of sight to Lori, who is also looking this way— at Glenn.

No one else seemed to notice, surprisingly, but she looks nervous.

Glenn looks like he wants to say something, to Rick.

Oooo, I smell a secret.

I gave him an encouraging glance, trying to persuade him to speak his mind but before he could even open his mouth, Shane spoke around his mouthful.

"Binoculars"

"Huh? Yeah— oh yeah" Glenn put down the basket and pulled the optical device off his shoulder, handing them over to Shane.

I sighed and eyed Glenn with a 'We will talk later' look and I know he caught it because he grabbed that basket and is all but running away, with two rushed words, "Okay, bye."

Rick & Shane shared a look with a me. So they did notice that, if not anything before.

Shane snorted and chuckled with Rick, shaking his head.

Whatever Glenn's hiding, it involves Lori. Unless he was looking at another nervous homo sapien that I, a being with perfect 20/20 eyesight(last I checked), managed to miss.

I hoisted myself up onto the hood, leaning on my hand so I could see the map better and get off my feet for a bit. My heels are starting to complain.

Also, maybe, so I can get a better view of one Sheriff's wife and low-key observe her behavior for a bit. Wow, that sounded way more stalker-ish than intended.

Why she and Glenn of all people are keeping a secret, is unusual, and concerning to say the least.

I don't like being nosy, but being out of the loop is not only worse(for me), but nowadays it's downright dangerous not to know what's going on.

I'll have to deal with the issue later though, I've gotta decide where I'm searching today.

If I'm gonna have a partner that isn't as comfortable— or accustomed as Daryl & I in the woods, it's gonna be different than the route I had planned for today.

I was gonna head up to that ridge Daryl went to, where he found the doll, but that's too far out and too dangerous for just anyone—

"We'd like to join you for gun trainin' today."

I looked up to two blondes, Patricia & Beth, approaching behind Jimmy.

"Hershel's been very clear. I can't involve any of you in what we do without his okay" Rick shifted from foot to foot, swallowing his mouthful.

That is very police-officer-like. It continues to surprise me, how much law enforcement behavior he displays in simple day to day life.

"He doesn't like it, but he consented." Beth assured him.

"Otis was the only one who knew guns." Patricia spoke up, and at the mention of Otis, Shane went stiff. Rick shifted uncomfortably.

"Now that he's gone… we gotta learn to protect ourselves." Patricia went on. "Her father saw the sense in that _._ "

I'm glad Patricia's doing better.

I heard the click of a knife and looked over just as Shane started towards Carl; who was leaning against the RV, sharpening a stick with his switchblade.

I never got to meet Otis, but from what I know, he was a good person.

"No offense, but I'll ask Hershel myself." I can understand Rick's lack of excitement to take risks right now.

We're not exactly on the best of terms with Hershel from what I know. He is _really_ bothered with us, for whatever reason.

I don't understand what his problem is. As far as I know, we've held up our end of the deal.

Except I haven't turned over my piece yet. I've been going out early and comin' back so late I haven't had a chance, but in my defense, I've been going out _every day,_ all day.

It makes little to no sense to turn over my piece for a measly few hours while I sleep before I need to get it out and take off again.

Besides, It's not like I don't know what I'm doing with guns; and I rarely use my piece in the first place.

It could probably use a cleaning, now that I think about it. I could do that during gun training, I suppose.

I'm supposed to be a supervising lookout, to be honest. In case the gunfire attracts some unwanted attention.

I'll be teaching at least 1 person I know that but it's mostly stuff they've just gotta get a feel for.

"Rick" Shane came stalking back, Carl in tow, looking somewhat peeved but mostly something I can't place.

Carl's eyes were trained on the ground and even a blind person could recognize the posture of a kid who knows they're about to be in _a lot_ of trouble.

Shane held up a small black revolver as he got closer and I sighed, shielding my eyes with my hand.

This will end badly.

I dragged my hand down my face, kneading my cheeks before heading towards Carl.

* * *

"How the Hell did this happen?" Lori flicked the revolver's bullet chamber shut with a snap as she came back over from where Carl was sat on a log in camp, and stood next to me in the circle of adults dealing with this.

"Well, It's my fault. I let him into the RV." Dale spoke regretfully across from me.

"He said he wanted a walkie— that you sent him for one." he gestured at Rick.

"So on top of everything else, he lied." Lori put her hands on her hips, shoving the gun into her back pocket.

Carl's eyes caught mine for a moment before he looked back down at his hands, clasped in front of him; resting his elbows on his knees.

He doesn't look remorseful. He got caught but he doesn't look as upset as expected of a kid his age. Honestly, he looks more…grown up.

Lori looked at her son, then her husband and whispered, "What's he thinking?"

"He wants to learn how to shoot." Shane answered, even though the question wasn't directed at him.

"He asked me to teach him. Now. It's— it's none of my business but I'm happy to do it. It's… it's your call."

"Well I'm not comfortable with it." Lori laughed humorlessly.

Shane sighed on my right, clenching his jaw. Rick straightened up on Lori's left, holding his breath and looked at Shane & me.

Shane sighed again, shaking his head a little.

I gave an ambivalent half-smile, accompanied by a stiff shrug.

I can see why Lori wouldn't want Carl to, from a mother's standpoint; She wants to protect him. But nowadays, that's just not possible. Not completely.

We can't protect him 24/7, and God forbid something happens to her or Rick, or the rest of us, and he be left to fend for himself.

"OH, don't make me out to be the unreasonable one here. Rick?" Lori looked at her husband expectantly.

Rick turned towards his wife, already posturing to argue with her. I've seen him do this enough to know when he's approaching an argument with a diffusing state of mind.

"I know. I have my concerns too but—" Rick started

"There's no but. He was just shot. He is just back on his feet and he wants a gun?" Lori makes a good point but—

"Better than him being afraid of 'em." Rick argued. "There are guns in camp for a reason he should learn how to handle them safely."

I gotta wonder how many times Rick's argued with people like this. He's scarily good at reasonable arguments.

"I don't want my kid walkin' around with a gun." Lori near hissed.

Who said anything about walking around? Not even we can have our guns in camp. Hershel doesn't even trust two previous police officers to walk around with their sidearms why on Earth would we let a kid?

"How can you defend that?" Rick looked off to the side for a moment. "You can't let him go around without protection."

"He's as safe as he'll ever be right here." Lori argued. Rick shook his head, shifting on his feet.

"Like Sophia was?" I spoke up. All eyes turned to me, even Carl glanced up.

I hate to be the one to say it, but we fucked up. We're not perfect, we can't protect anyone 24/7 not even ourselves. The world is not going to let us have it our way.

Better we accept that now and make peace with it while we have the chance, or be forced to later.

"Look, everything you're sayin' makes perfect sense." Lori looked at Rick. "It feels wrong. I mean, I didn't feel good about him following you out into the woods, and I wish I'd said something. I should've gone with my gut."

"He's growin' up. Thank God." Rick argued. "We need— we need to start treatin' him more like an adult."

"Then he needs to act like one. He's not mature enough to handle a gun." Lori looked at Carl pointedly.

Carl abruptly stood and came towards us. "I'm not gonna play with it mom."

...

"It's not a toy. I'm sorry I disappointed you, but I wanna look for Sophia, and I wanna defend our camp. I can't do that without a gun." Carl shook his head.

Phew. You put up a tough argument, kid. I'm startin' to see why Shane calls you 'little man'.

"Shane's the best instructor I know. I've seen him teach kids younger than Carl." Rick spared a look at his partner.

Lori glanced before staring at her husband in contemplative silence for several more seconds.

She started moving and for a moment I thought she was gonna walk away but she stopped in front of Carl and took his chin, raising his eyeline up to hers.

"You will take this seriously. And you will behave responsibly. And if I hear from anybody in this camp that you are not livin' up to our expectations—"

"He won't let you down." Rick intervened before Lori could draw the kid an impossible-to-follow list, a mile long.

"Yeah." Carl gave a firm nod; Wisely, siding with his father.

Damn, that was a hard fought battle but I think we just won.

Your mama really knows how to make people sweat, kiddo.


	46. Chapter 46

I smiled and gave Carl a wink as his mother passed him by to continue whatever she has to do before we take off for gun practice today.

"Alright." Rick sighed, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. Fighting with your spouse like that can't be easy. Especially when it comes to your kid.

"Now all we gotta do is decide who'll teach who. Who do we have that already knows how to shoot?" Rick turned back to us, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. Almost like a, 'congratulations for winning an argument with your mother'.

"Present company excluded we've got, T-Dog, Glenn, Lori, and Daryl." Shane listed.

"Daryl's outta commission, so that leaves us with 3, 4…6 possible instructors." Dale interjected.

"Have you ever taught anyone how to shoot?" Rick looked at me.

I gave him a deadpan stare and just blinked.

I hate to burst your bubble, _sweetie_ , but I'm a better shot than you are. You may have been a police officer before, but I had an awful lot of free time, not much of a social life, and a fondness for the range near my place.

"Okay, then." Rick's amused tone was accompanied by a head shake.

He is just gettin' trampled by women today. First Beth & Patricia, then Lori, now me.

"We only need to train 5 or 6 people, I'd say we've got all the instructors we need." Shane rubbed his shaved head.

"Let's get goin' then." Rick nodded. "Dale, I want you to stay behind, hold down the fort while we're gone."

Dale nodded, readjusting the rifle on his shoulder.

* * *

Agh, the ride here was so bumpy. I got out of the car and stretched my shoulders. We drove off road for like a mile to get here.

It wasn't a particularly long ride, but it wasn't a comfortable one.

Apparently Shane and I think it was Andrea, found this sight during their search.

It's a fairly secluded area. It's got several yards of space between the fence and treeline of the woods. The grassy hill behind this old wood fence acts as a natural backstop for the bullets.

It really is perfect for this. The only drawback is, we've gotta watch our backs against the trees for walkers we might attract.

We should count our blessings, there aren't many walkers this far out from the major cities. I don't imagine many get the chance to somewhat safely practice shooting nowadays.

"'Ey, help us set these up along the fence" T-dog handed me a crate of old bottles and glass jars without even waiting for me to fully turn.

Since when did we have these? I don't recall going on a container hunt.

I walked towards the far end of the fence, and set the crate down near a 'Do Not Enter' sign on the fence. You know, this fence kinda looks like the type horses jump.

I started setting them atop the thick fence, spacing them 1-2 feet apart. When my crate was finished off, I took it back to the cars and tossed it in the trunk with the rest.

Everybody's pairing off with instructors already. Rick & Shane already taking Carl, Lori, Beth, and Patricia to their starting positions, several feet from their targets; almost exactly between the treeline and the fence.

I motioned at Andrea before she could be snatched up by someone else, but it didn't look like anyone was going for her anyway(I don't know why the Hell not). T already paired off with Jimmy and Rick and Shane have got their hands full.

So it looks like I'm teaching Andrea, Carol, and overseeing them plus Patricia.

I pointed and motioned at all three of them and they followed me to the far end of our setup.

They've all got their selected guns, so I don't have to worry about teaching 'em which gun is best for them. Shane took care of that in the car, I assume Rick did as well in the other vehicle.

Cleaning and whatnot will come later, and probably best left to Shane as he is our foremost expert in that.

Today, and my job, is all about how to handle the weapon itself. How to aim, how the safety works, when to fire, remove and replace the clip, etc, etc.

The technical stuff, and polishing off skills will come later. Much later. After they're all familiar enough with their weapons to have no trouble shooting what comes at them.

I showed each of them how to handle their weapon, spaced the three several feet apart mostly for safety reasons, and gave them their target bottles & cans along the fencing.

I stood back from Andrea at the farthest end, to watch and keep watch while the shooting began.

The easy part's done, now to the piece I'm actually interested in. Seeing how well they all do.

* * *

I sat on a tree stump behind Andrea; cleaning my piece and keeping an eye out for anything that's cause for concern while I watch my pupils nailing almost every shot.

It took them a few shots to get the hang of it, aside from Ms. Queen of aim herself, but after they did, they've yet to miss.

I'd like to say, 'Damn I'm good' but I really haven't done much. They're doing all the leg work, all I'm doing is slight corrections when they stray. Like a spotter for a gymnast.

This is pretty boring in all honesty, though.

I'm surprised these guys are above decent shots, actually. For the most part. As far as I know, none of them have handled firearms before.

I don't know if it's their own innate talent, the survival instinct of needing the skill, the quality of those teaching, or a combination of everything but whatever it is, I'm glad. For their sake.

I watched Andrea shoot again, and good grief. She's a damn fine shot. She's got intuitive aim like I've never seen. Almost too good to believe.

Although... I'm likin' Beth's aim. Too bad I can't ask her to come out with me today. Hershel would have a cow. Plus she's pretty young too, and I'd rather not risk her life if I can help it. She may not fare well in the wilderness anyway.

I'd ask T-Dog but his arm hasn't healed yet and if we got into a sticky situation, it would only be a hindrance.

Jimmy's a decent shot but again, he's the same as Beth. Young and under Hershel's wing.

Maybe I should've asked Glenn before we left. Why did he stay behind anyway?

He said Dale was gonna teach him mechanics but I saw Dale's face when Glenn said that. He had no idea about any such thing before that very moment but he still went along with it for Glenn's sake.

I've got a feeling it has to do with the secret Glenn's been keeping— which I'm astounded he hasn't blabbed about yet. Sorry man, but you can't lie for shit.

I'm a little peeved Dale's in on it now, but I suppose I can't blame him. I haven't been around much to just talk to, and well...Dale's pretty nosy. I don't think there's anyone on this Earth that old man couldn't get the truth out of.

One of these days, I gotta teach you a little somethin' about being subtle, Ace. Truth be told, it might be a good idea if I taught everybody. Just in case.

It could help them get a little more in-tune and accustomed to trusting their own instincts.

How would I teach them though? I don't even know how I do it, really. I'd like to think it's nothing more than a light step but if that were the case, there would be a lot more people like me out there.

Daryl's subtle but his step isn't exactly light, most often. Stealth isn't something you can really teach. It's something you gotta find, and teach yourself.

It takes practice, and there isn't a lot of room for mistakes. One mistake and you get caught.

I watched Andrea shoot yet another hole in the center of the O's on the 'Do Not Enter' sign below what her target was actually supposed to be.

She hasn't hit that metal can even once, but she hasn't tried to either. There's no doubt in my mind that if she were aiming for it, it'd be a bullseye.

I know Rick said "No one goes alone" but if I take a rookie out into the woods, it'll cause more problems than it solves. Yeah, sure it's an extra set of eyes but you only need an extra set when one isn't enough.

My track record hasn't been the best since the highway, I'll be the first to admit that, and I do agree we need to stop going off on our own but... I'm not seeing a better alternative.

I don't wanna go against Rick, and I know I'm being nit-picky about this.

I should just suck it up and ask T already.

Dammit, Daryl. Why'd you have to go and get hurt?

I don't know how to track as well as you, and yeah I'm quieter but that's not enough.

I need my partner.


	47. Chapter 47

"You sure you've never had training?" I finally asked the question that's been burning me since I found out she took that shot with the rifle.

"Nah. None." Andrea turned around, thumb hooked through her belt loop.

Unreal, man.

I still don't totally believe her but facts are facts. She did graze Daryl at that range, without a spotter, or any prior knowledge of what goes into being a sniper.

I smiled, shaking my head, and stowed my piece.

You know, she looks different. Much different than the lawyer I met in Atlanta. It feels like so long ago, but it hasn't even been a whole year yet.

With that beige stetson, deep blue jeans, those dark brown boots, and the gun in her hand, she really looks like she belongs out here; Like she grew up country. It's a good look for her, surprisingly.

Amy would never let her live this down. Her sister the civil rights lawyer, turned cowgirl gunslinger extraordinaire.

The thought made me smile, and I glanced down the line of fine shooters we've wrangled up and managed to train, in just a few hours.

You'd be surprised what the right sort of motivation does to a person.

* * *

Target practice came to a close and I still haven't been able to make a decision.

Everyone I can and have considered, has something to disqualify them. Even Shane already chose my first choice, Andrea, as his partner.

I'd be a little more peeved about that, if he wasn't training her with moving targets before they go check out the housing development Jimmy mentioned this morning.

I blew a frustrated breath through my lips and ran a hand down my face, pulling the skin from my cheekbones down and letting it snap back as I reached my designated ride.

Lifting my knee up to my chest, I hopped into the bed of the blue truck and extended my hand to help Carl(who begged his mom to be able to), and sat with my back against the cabin alongside the kid.

At this rate, I'm either gonna have to deliberately go against what Rick said and go alone, or I'll have to drag that very man out with me— despite him being on 'Hold down the fort' duty today.

The truck roared to life and rocked from side to side unevenly while it began pulling out and turning around to follow the other vehicles back the way we came.

I laced my fingers together, stretching them out and up in front of me. Tight muscles pulling until they relented to loosen gloriously, and I let them down again to relax.

The bed jostled as my arms dropped back down and a strangled grunt seized my vocal cords as my teeth clenched and my entire arm zinged up to my shoulder every half second.

A fit of laughter exploded beside me while I cradled the painfully tingling elbow and my jaw dropped, shooting a scandalized gape at the boy at my side.

How dare you laugh at my pain, you lil' shit—

I grabbed Carl in a headlock and started giving him the noogie I perfected in 7th grade.

He yelled, laughed, and squirmed; trying to get away but you are no match for me, child.

 _Muahahahaha_! You shall feel my wrath—

The truck bed bounced and my heart lurched as the ground disappeared from under us.

Before my brain could even catch up to what had happened, the back of my legs slammed back onto the bed with an audible ' _smack'_ and my hand grabbed the side of the bed faster than I knew possible; the other tightly wrapped around Carl's shoulders to keep him from leaving my grasp.

I looked around; head on a swivel between the trees, the road behind the truck, and into the cabin over my shoulder, but as soon as I realized it as just a dip in the trail behind us, I looked at Carl.

The boy looked scared shitless— pale as a sheet and hands gripping my knee/thigh for dear life before I burst out laughing; Carl's own following suit.

"Hey"

I looked over my left shoulder at Lori who was leaning out of the cabin window. "No more roughhousing, okay?"

I chewed my bottom lip, nodding. Not out of guilt, but trying to contain the laugh that so desperately wanted to escape.

"You're in the back of a moving vehicle. You both could get seriously hurt if somethin' were to happen."

I glanced at Carl who was doing worse at hiding his giggles and was using my jacket/shoulder to smother most of it, in combination with covering his mouth and nose. He at least has the courtesy of looking a bit guilty about the whole thing but I doubt Lori would care, if he started laughing now.

"Just keep the rough-housing down, okay, Eve? I let Carl ride back there because I trust you'll keep him safe."

I nodded, releasing my lip, to show I am taking his safety seriously; Squeezing Carl into my side for good measure and she gave a firm nod before we hit another small bump and she ducked back inside the cabin.

I turned back to Carl with wide eyes, blowing air out my mouth slowly.

Carl snorted and I joined him — _quietly_ — after pulling a face and licked my dry lips.

Merlin's funny uncle, I just got scolded like a teenager.

I haven't felt parental wrath since I was still afraid of my 3rd grade teacher.

We did as told, fearing another beratement, and quit with the rough-housing in favor of having a thumb war— well, me pinning Carl's thumb so many times he got frustrated and I showed him the trick to winning.

* * *

Halfway back to the farm, I banged the side of the truck and T-Dog stopped.

I gave Carl's hair a tussle before I hopped out and leaned through Lori's window to grab the map.

"What's goin' on?" T looked at me from the driver's seat, over Patricia and Lori beside him.

Sorry, Rick. My partner's outta commission at the moment and I can't just sit on my hands because I don't have a search buddy.

The best I got is this compromise of sorts, for the time being.

I can at least treck the rest of the way back from here on foot. Cover some ground whilst we're already out here, save us some search time at the very least.

Once I get back, I'll decide properly on a partner for tomorrow, in case Daryl's still outta commission but I don't know how long he'll actually heed the doctor's orders and stay put.

Maybe I'll drag Glenn out— because he should be done with "mechanics" by then.

I sure hope Dale actually made him learn something.

It's not like it won't come in handy to have more than one or two people who know how to work on an engine.

I mean Daryl knows how to keep Merle's bike in good condition but I've no idea how much he knows about normal cars. Or RV's for that matter.

I know enough to get by, but I couldn't build or maintain an engine from scratch, on my own.


	48. Chapter 48

The ground crunched and squished beneath my boots. Everything from grass, to dirt, to twigs, to squishy mud and leaves, going underfoot.

This place keeps tricking me into almost believing it's peaceful.

The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the canopy, the lack of unnatural dead things. Birds chirping and forest creatures going about their business as if nothing is wrong. As if it's just another day in the life of a forest dweller— though technically it is.

This place, looking so untouched by the outside world. I didn't think places like this still existed; and not just because of the apocalypse.

To think at one time the world was safe enough to take a walk through the woods.

No matter how many times it dawns on me, it never quite feels ...real.

I've had this same revelation everywhere I go on this rock; it's always the same, yet always different.

If I had been this philosophical in high school, maybe I actually would've passed my English class. God I hated that class.

I was happy my chem lab partner set my textbook on fire, accident or not, but I still had to sit through the droning teacher repeat the same garbage for an hour.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for philosophy. It's an interesting topic, but that man— Good lord. He told us a thousand different quotes which basically all said the same thing. Every. Day.

I don't know what I expected from English class, but it sure wasn't that. I'm not even sure that stuff was in the curriculum.

I half stepped on a rock and my heart leaped into my throat as my ankle rolled and I stumbled sideways. My forehead nearly colliding with a tree.

My hands shot out and saved me from hitting my face, but I felt my sternum painfully impact with the rough bark and I immediately pushed away from the tree, hissing and clutching my aching bone.

I glanced down as if I'd be able to see the damage and caught red on my hand instead.

Great, and I thought these scabs would be gone soon. What is it with me and trees?!

It's like they've declared me their mortal enemy.

A throaty gurgle drew my eyes to my left, and I froze, every muscle in my body tensing at the sight of 2 walkers stumbling my way side by side.

Without thinking, I ducked farther than I'd already been and pulled a knife from my thigh as I moved around the other side of the tree as fast as I could without making any noise.

I glanced over my shoulder, towards the farm.

I don't think they saw me and there's not a lot of wind, so they probably can't smell me either.

I can't just let them stumble onto the property though.

I looked back at the walkers, pulling my other knife and flipping the two around to make the blades parallel with my forearms, edge facing out.

I watched them shuffle closer and carefully moved one quiet step at a time around the tree as they passed, and the tree had kept me hidden until I was behind them.

With a quick inhale, I came up behind the closest and stabbed it straight through the base of the skull. Quick and clean.

It dropped in a heap of deadweight, and just as the other began to turn, I spun my other knife around in my hand and drove the point through its temple with a gross ' _squish_ ' all the way to the hilt.

I put my foot on the walker's chest and pulled my blade with a bloody slick, as it fell back.

Ew, this blood looks like melted gummy worms.

My face scrunched in disgust as the smell hit me and I struggled not to cough.

I almost forgot what they smell like up close, being out here with all the fresher air.

My throat constricted with my not breathing and I went straight into a jog away from the bodies until I was well on my way back towards the fence; which is almost in sight.

I went to slide my knives back into their holsters but stopped, watching a globe of congealed people juice drop off the edges.

I tried, I really did try not to draw parallels between it and a woman's period but being a woman myself, I'm all too familiar with that unfortunate monthly event.

I sighed and took a rushed deep breath, returning my eyes forward and decided to just carry the deadly little objects in my hands for once.

Oh yeah, searching back through the woods was a great idea.

I'm gonna… keep this to myself. No need to worry anybody when nothing actually happened. And it's not like two walkers is a herd and we need to sound the alarm and get everyone to safety.

Besides, Rick's got enough on his mind these days.

I'll leave our "room & board" bartering to him and just… try not to give him any extra concerns —even take a few off his plate where I can.

I reached the edge of the Greene's land, and the metal of blades clanked against the old dark wooden fence as I hopped it. This battered fence and I are getting to know one another all too well.

How many times does this make it? How many times have I come back with _nothing_ to show for my efforts? Aside from there are two less walkers in the world. That makes just over 8 billion to go.

At least Daryl finds shit when he goes out. He found that farm house, he found her doll even though he got hurt doing it. Hell he even found _me,_ when all my dumb ass has found is a sinkhole and a whole lot a jack shit.

I've been out here every day. I must've covered miles of this forest by now.

How can I keep coming back here and letting Carol know her daughter's still alone in the woods?

She could be hurt, dehydrated, starving, exhausted, sick— she could be _dead_.

All because we're a sorry bunch of useless half-assing "adults" stumbling over everything in our paths, pretending we know what we're doing. As if that'll magically make everything better.

Surviving is arduous enough, but searching for a little girl in a forest of corpses and untold dangers, is like searching for a firefly at the bottom of the ocean. Hoping beyond hope it's somehow still glowing.

The dim lights of the house drew closer as I moved on, but the glow of the campfire only came into view as I got a little over halfway through the grassy field between the house and the treeline. And that's where I collapsed. Collapsed on the long damp grass, rolling onto my back with a ragged breath.

Staring up to the sky with half-lidded eyes, stars brimmed brilliantly out here in the countryside but for the first time in my life, they're doing nothing to lift my mood.

I've started to feel like we're always swimming against the tide. Everything we do is countered by nature, chance, even luck seems to have abandoned us for better days.

Humanity's been forsaken, and I honestly can't say we don't deserve it.

I've been asking myself a lot of things lately. Since when did I start to doubt myself? When did I start to lose my head —whether I'm alone or not— when things aren't going my way?

Things have never gone my way— why did I start expecting them to?

Have my senses dulled so much in such little time? When did I become lax and so unaware of my surroundings that a couple a walkers can trudge right across my path and I don't know about it 'till it's right in front of my eyes?

I can't be like this; Being caught off guard is why Sophia ran. Why Daryl was nearly killed —twice; the first arguably being his own fault, the second being Andrea's— and partially the group's for getting too comfortable.

Why I've found nothing but near death experiences for the last 3 days. Why I have failed to notice the blatantly obvious, and become unaware of my surroundings. Why there are people in the group suddenly keeping secrets and I have _no clue_ as to why, or even shots in the dark as to _what_ they could be about.

I spend half my time in the dark about what's going on around me, despite being right in the center of it. So caught up in my own thoughts. Have I really become so blind?

I've dismissed and been outright angry about what everyone's been doing while I've been out there, but they've hardly been idle.

Half of 'em go out every day, just like I do.

Rationally, I know we can't spare the manpower to search the forest grid by grid for a moving target and leave our camp, the farm, and all of our supplies— our lifelines unprotected. But part of me is still fixed on the notion they've been sitting on their hands, while I —and a few others— work our butts off to find that little girl.

People have gotten hurt putting their lives on the line again and again, same as I have. Pushing against all odds, hoping to gods we're not even sure exist anymore that she's okay and we'll find her.

I can't speak for what they've been doing in their down time, but _that's_ the problem.

I've been blaming them —subconsciously or not— for being lazy when I know next to nothing about what they've actually been doing. For all I know, they've been doing exactly the same thing as I have.

Exhausted beyond measure, chipping away at everything they've got just to keep searching and trying to keep worry at bay; spending every waking second with the sole focus of replenishing enough strength to get back out there.

I have no right to blame them— blame anyone. _It's no one's fault_ but I keep acting like it is. Like there's someone to blame for everything that's happened.

Letting my own frustration determine my actions, my thoughts.

I blinked up at the clear cold deep blue sky, growing darker with every passing minute.

No more blame, no whining, no more aimless wandering, no more retreating into my mind out of boredom or anything else, no more dismissal of _anything_. I have to figure out what's going on, to figure out where I need to go.

I'm putting a stop to this.

For my sake, if no one else's.


	49. Chapter 49

"Hey"

I blinked my eyes open and stared up at Glenn standing over me.

"I thought I saw you over here. Can I sit?"

I nodded, narrowing my eyes slightly. He's never asked before— he shouldn't even feel the need to. What's going on?

He planted himself next to me and I sat up, giving the most prompting look I could muster.

He avoided my gaze before sighing, running a hand over his face.

"What would you do if you knew something —that someone else doesn't want anyone to know— but another someone wants _everyone_ to know? And this is something you know everyone should know— but you don't wanna betray the person who doesn't want everyone to know."

Wow. That wasn't convoluted at all.

If I had to guess the expression I'm making, it's nothing short of unreadable.

But to answer that, question...? It would entirely depend on what this something is.

If it's personal and not my decision to make, I wouldn't get involved. If it's gonna start drama, I wouldn't say anything. If it was confided in me, I wouldn't intervene unless I had to. If it's not my place to say anything, I wouldn't.

 _However_ , if it's harmful to themselves, another person, or to me, there's a solid chance I would take action. If someone's life was at stake because of this secret, I couldn't just sit by.

I might not _say anything_ about it, but I would definitely do something— not without thinking it through.

But I get the feeling there's more to this than that.

If it were a simple decision between keeping a secret and blabbing, I don't think he'd have need of my consultation. So what could be tearing him up enough he needs help?

I blinked, shifted, licked my lips, and peered at him until he grew uncomfortable enough to cut the bullshit.

You're so easy to read, Ace. You should've known I wouldn't buy that earful.

A sighed groan rushed from Glenn's mouth as he tucked his head between his knees and laced his fingers behind his noggin; Not even caring his cap was about to take a dive for the grass.

"I don't know what to do."

Gasp, if I'd had a million guesses, I never would'a gotten that.

He looks like he's depressed. Oh _Hell_ no, that's not gonna fly.

Both of us cannot be feeling like underwater wind chimes. Not today. You're supposed to be the optimistic skittle-spitter here.

I whacked his knee with mine and slung my arm across his shoulders, attempting to lighten the mood, if only a little.

Taking a sharp breath, Glenn locked eyes with me.

"Don— Don't freak out and don't tell anybody —not that you would do either— but, uh..."

He swallowed, adjusting his cap nervously.

"Out with it, Ace. What's eating you?"

"Lori's pregnant, and the barn's full of walkers."

…...

I glanced between the barn, and over my shoulder to the camp at our backs where everyone was by the fire, presumably having dinner.

I turned back to the barn, and looked at Glenn.

"... _Oh fu—_ "

* * *

I sat in a camping chair in front of the campfire, looking at everyone and trying to anticipate how they're going to react to this. All I can say right now is...this is not gonna go over well.

Glenn and I agreed not to tell them tonight, for a number of reasons, including it'll go better if they've all had some sleep. But tomorrow morning, this camp is gonna turn into a kicked wasp's nest.

Daryl glanced at me for the 12th time in the last ten minutes. I think he knows something's up.

If I give him the chance to press— he'll get what he wants. He's like Merle that way.

Must run in the family.

I just hope he doesn't zero in on Glenn, because he will not be able to keep his mouth shut against Daryl. He'll spill like a floodgate.

Shifting, I cracked my neck, and caught something out of the corner of my eye.

Elbowing Glenn, I pointed and he reached over, grabbing it for me.

It's been a long time since I had one of these in my hands.

I rested the sleek wood on my thigh. I plucked each string sequentially and cringed. The iron strings feel good under my fingers but that sound.

Egh, this guitar is in desperate need of tuning.

It's been a long time since I've had to tune a guitar by ear. Let's see how rusty I am, shall we?

I spent 5 minutes tuning it to the best of my ability, before stretching my fingers, and popping my knuckles.

Hmm, what do I remember how to play?

Enter sandman— but that only really sounds right with an electric guitar.

That takes Metallica out...and, most everything I remember how to play. Well, I know what I'm looking for next time there's a run.

Come on, I've gotta know something that'll sound good acoustically...

Ooo— maybe Metallica isn't out.

Positioning my fingers, I gave the strings one last strum to make sure they resonated well.

My finger callouses are almost completely gone. Who knew that could happen in only a few months— well technically it's been several months.

Starting slowly, I eased into Nothing Else Matters. The very first Metallica song I mastered. I practiced everyday for months to learn this.

My fingers danced over the fretboard as if I'd never stopped playing. Everything coming back as I went; like remembering the next verse in a song right before you're supposed to sing it.

I've missed this.

Moving my hands like this has never felt so good before. Or maybe it always felt like this but every time feels like the first time.

That rush you get caught up in as you play. You can't help but move with it.

Nothing else around you exists when these strings vibrate.

It's a good thing I'm a solid fingerpicker. Arguably I'm better at fingerpicking than with an actual guitar pick. It feels so much more natural to use my fingers instead of a piece a plastic. But lord do I miss my thumb pick right now.

I almost forgot how chaffing the strings are without callouses.

I glanced up when something shifted at the top of my downcast vision.

It was Carl sitting on the ground in front of me; between me and the fire, watching my hands with.

Finishing off the final portion, I looked up to find everyone paying closer attention than I'd anticipated.

"You, my dear" Dale smiled at me, taking a seat on the other side of Glenn. "Are full of surprises."

"Can you play another?" Carl looked up at me with a childish wonder I feared he didn't have anymore.

I glanced at Rick and Lori, on the other side of the fire, smiling. Everyone's smiling for once.

My lip quirked up as I licked them and I leaned over to ruffle his hair before shaking out my wrist and repositioning my fingers.

What kind of song would a kid like Carl wanna hear?

He doesn't strike me as a hip hop sorta kid —not that I could play that in the first place— but he probably won't be as interested in most of what I know.

Wait, why does it matter? It's not like he's gonna know what it is anyway. Unless…

I couldn't help the devious little smirk as I started again. No one will likely recognize this song straight away, but just a few seconds in, when I hit those notes, I saw the recognition on every single face here.

You can't go wrong with Pirates of the Caribbean.

As time went on, I played progressively slower, calmer songs; almost putting everyone to sleep in their chairs but it wasn't until Carl actually fell asleep that I stopped and most everyone meandered back to their tents to actually sleep.

I went to hand Glenn his guitar back and he waved his hand.

"Keep it. No one else knows how to play— except you apparently."

I nodded in thanks, and gave him a pat on the shoulder as we separated to head to our own tents. I waved goodnight to my "neighbors" as we all slipped inside our own abodes for the night.

Zipping up the door, I carefully put my guitar to rest and went through the motions of taking my gear off, setting it all in a pile right next to where I sleep.

I should see if I can find a case for it, soon. I mean I could probably go find a guitar in just about any music store now, but I'd rather avoid going into a place covered in things that make loud noises if I can help it. As much as I like to play, it's actually dangerous.

Dropping to my hands and knees and feeling my way to my sleeping bag, I moved around until I found my backpack and dug through it, finding my small LED flashlight.

I clicked the tiny light on and found my spare clothes, changing before laying down.

I sighed, staring at the ruffling roof of my tent. The slightest breeze makes the flimsy material move.

A chill ran up my spine and I shimmied deeper into my sleeping bag.


	50. Chapter 50

I shot up, struggling to force air into my chest. My fists shook with my sleeping bag in a death grip.

Those eyes flashed through my head and the ache in my shoulder jumped to the foreground, but the face kept coming back to me. It wasn't _his_ face, but those were his eyes.

I desperately thrashed in the sleeping bag, doing everything in my power to get out as fast as humanly possible.

I kicked the fabric from my feet and in a blur of blind panic, I grabbed my backpack and was outside before I knew it.

My foot caught on the lip of my tent and I had half a second of realization when my stomach soared and my hands shot out to catch me without even thinking.

I went sprawling onto the ground. My cheek smooshed against the well treaded dirt and my neck whip-lashed in an already failed effort to save my face.

My chin was parallel to the ground as I furiously blinked, whipping around to look at everything that moved in the slightest. My hands began to sting but it was a dull sensation against the frantic sweeping of my surroundings, the sting blooming in my cheek, and the ache in my ribs.

My heart hammered painfully against the inside of my chest. The sound filling my ears so completely I couldn't even hear my own rapid breaths shaking my chest.

It took me several seconds to fully grasp where I was, and I only did so when I flipped over and my eyes landed on a familiar crossbow leaning against a tree, in the tent beside mine.

I swallowed hard and licked my lips, trying to bring moisture back to my parched mouth as I pushed myself up. I pulled my legs in, resting my elbows over my knees.

Part of my brain recognized the angry red of my hands, and the few speckles of blood rising from torn scabs, but I couldn't bring my focus to it; not while I tried to force a deep breath and stop picturing a red glow, a face I'll see tomorrow with eyes that should be long gone, and flesh-tearing teeth.

Three things that should never have coincided wrapped up in one godforsaken nightmare.

He's gone. He will never get to me, but I can't stop seeing it.

Ever since the CDC, and I saw Shane…

I fumbled shakily for the water bottle I keep in my backpack, and struggled with the cap before I finally got it off and down half the bottle.

I haven't— they haven't gone away. He hides it well, but they're still there. I feel like I'm living with ghosts. I can still see those eyes when I look at Shane sometimes. I hear his words when someone speaks, even if their voices are different.

I found my eye being drawn to the very building. In the dark it's nothing more than a dark outline against the star-scattered midnight blue sky.

My head lulled back and I stared up. The dark treetops outlined against the atmosphere. I harshly rubbed my eyes with the back of my wrist and drew in as long breath as I could, no matter how shaky.

Looking back to my hands, I stared a moment before screwing the lid back on the bottle. It took me a few tries but I managed, and stuffed it back inside the grey-black bag.

I rubbed my arm, finally noticing how cold it was, but I didn't grip my wrist because it's chilly.

I took another drawn breath; shutting my eyes as I bit my lips to keep my teeth from chattering.

I finally looked at the tents surrounding the campsite, and made a mental list of who was where.

My eyes moved to the top of the RV. No one's on watch tonight.

Why would there be? I mean, it's not like there's a barn full of walkers on the premises.

I cast my gaze towards the dark mass again, before finally crawling off my dirt covered butt, and went back inside my tent.

I sat in the corner, on my sleeping bag but couldn't bring myself to crawl inside it.

The near non-existent moonlight glinted off my gear in the corner beside me and I reached over without even thinking about it, and grabbed one of the knives.

I gripped the handle in my fist, smearing little drops of blood over the previously clean grip.

My tired, anxious gaze fixed on the doorway and I absently began tracing my fingers over the sharp steel blade.

* * *

I don't know how long I've been awake. My eyelids are heavy but they keep finding reasons to stay open.

I don't know when I laid down, using my backpack as a pillow instead of my actual pillow.

I don't know for how long I was able to close my eyes for each time I startled awake again, but the cold steel in my hand has been warm for some time now.

The light has slowly grown orange and fiery, with the rising sun; Fading into a yellowish white the higher it gets.

I stared at my cold sock-clad feet. The growing light revealing the deep blue color, and the black music notes finally became visible on them just a short while ago.

I know it's dawn, or past dawn, but all I could muster the energy to do was lay here, staring at the fabric door I'd left open all night.

I never did crawl back into my sleeping bag, but I've been using it as a blanket to stave off the cold. The cold which has been working with paranoia to keep sleep out of my grasp, all night.

When my toes finally started to warm up in the sunlight, it was like the off switch. The rising heat, and the white noise of gentle wind just...

* * *

The smell of food wafted into my tent like a wake-up call from heaven, but unlike every other day, it wasn't what got me outta bed.

I don't know how much sleep I actually got, but I can feel it in my limbs and in my eyes.

Every rustle, every slight sound brought me back to wakefulness, all night.

The wind brushing my tent had me shooting up knife first, every time I managed to fall asleep. Right up until the sun of all things let me sleep for however long I managed.

I dragged my hands over my face, kneading my stiff eyes with my fingers.

I can't be slow today. If I'm off my game I'll end up either coming back sooner, dying, or getting lost myself. Heaven forbid I fall asleep out there.

I don't feel as sleepy as I should. I know I don't, but I don't think I could sleep right now even if I tried.

I shouldn't have fooled myself into thinking this place was safe.

Nowhere is safe— there's no such thing as safe, never has been. Only safer.

My hands were sluggish in lacing up my boots, more so after I finished. I just sat there, staring at the guitar propped up next to me.

I wanna believe Sophia could survive out there on her own. It's possible but, she's not me; Or Daryl, or Rick, she's just a kid. Being a kid is hard enough already without all this crap, but being on your own?

Absentmindedly reaching over, I plucked the strings in slow succession.

That lil' girl is tougher than she looks but she's not—...she's not the kind of tough you need to be, to make it on your own.

"Ey"

I jolted straight into a kill-move; Knife brought up next to my ear.

"Whoa" Daryl stuck his hand out, reflexively. For a second he almost looked like Rick.

A tense breath released my lungs, and I sheathed my blade, waving my hand in a half-hearted apology.

"You look like shit."

Gee thanks. I rubbed my forehead just over my eye.

"Did ya get any sleep last night?"

I couldn't answer that if I wanted to. I let another heavy sigh out; those are quite popular with me today.

I need to wake up.

Just cause I had a nightmare and spent the night just sitting in the frigid night air wafting through my tent, doesn't give me a pass to be outta control.

The barn's full of walkers, and Sophia's still missing. I don't have time to be tired.

I took a deep controlled breath, stifling a yawn and stood up. Locking eyes with Daryl, I gave a solid nod.

He watched me grab my gun and tuck it into my waistband, that unconvinced look on his face, while I outfitted the rest of my gear.

When I had everything, I turned, ready to join everyone outside for breakfast but stopped because Daryl was still staring— scowling at me, with no sign of moving.

I sighed, giving a —not entirely convincing— smile.

It did nothing. He continued to stand there, raising one eyebrow.

Well, now I know what it's like to be on the other side of that 'cut the bullshit' move.

"I'm fine." I pulled on the hair tie around my wrist and put it between my lips while I started gathering my mass of hair.

I combed my hair back with my fingers and pulled the hair tie round and round until it was secured. "Just a nightmare"

Daryl pursed his lips, giving an almost unnoticeable nod and finally moved to let me out of my tent.

I followed him out, to the campfire where Carol was cooking breakfast, while I tried and failed to suppress another yawn.

Not everyone is up yet but as soon as Carol starts cooking, people tend to start getting up. I do at least.

I smiled when she looked over, and nodded in response to her muttered, "Morning"

I sat in the same camping chair I did last night, next to Daryl. It's almost becoming my dedicated seat, though I don't occupy it often.

I zoned in & out all morning as people got up, even as I ate my food. My head swirling with things I didn't even think to be concerned about before now. But I had a lot of time to think last night, as evident by the bags I can feel under my fatigued eyes.

I don't know whether I'm being paranoid or hyper aware, or if any of this crap has any relevance, but I'm starting to give myself a headache.

I was a fool to think I was long past all this— to think I'd ever be.


	51. Chapter 51

I couldn't stop thinking, right up until I saw Glenn look towards the house. I glanced as I shoveled the last of my eggs into my mouth, and found Maggie on the porch, looking this way with her arms crossed.

I watched her shake her head; The gesture visible even at this distance.

Glenn looked to his other side where Dale stood. The old man nodded, like a parent encouraging their kid to apologize.

I'm assuming the four of us having this awkward mental debate are the only ones aware of the barn at this moment. Glenn swallowed, looking at his own hands before finally looking to me.

I sighed, looking at him with sympathy. Agh, I'm sorry you always wind up stuck in the middle, Ace.

When we met, I really hoped I wouldn't be one of the people putting you in a tough place...but it's time to face the music.

Looking back at his hands, he found his conviction and stood; Going from the side of the group to a place directly across from me, where the entire group would be able to see him.

"U-ummm, guys." Glenn rubbed the side of his face, while the others looked at him.

"So..." Glenn glanced at me and I gave a subtle nod to reassure his decision.

"The barn's full of walkers."

I've never seen a more synchronized movement in my life.

Everything stopped; Conversation, eating, _breathing,_ and all eyes fixed on Glenn.

I watched Rick turn slowly, the movement ominous and foreign to his everyday. Even from behind him, I can tell exactly where his eyes are.

It was the stillest moment in history. The next second, everyone was on their feet, heading straight for the barn in a frenzied panic.

I followed Daryl and as I came up beside Glenn, I clapped him on the shoulder.

I don't know if this was the right course of action, but it's better than doing nothing. We can't leave it there forever, and it's better if we deal with this as a group.

* * *

I watched Shane inch up next to the old chained barn doors and peer between gaps in the faded graying panels.

He didn't have to, you can hear the shuffling, growls, and moans right here 20 feet from it, but apparently seeing is believing for him. Even if it gets your eye poked out by a walker finger.

Would that infect you? I mean we don't know how exactly it spreads, all we know is bites and scratches do the trick, but would that count as a scratch? Would it have to break into the bloodstream to infect you?

Shane backed away and turned with a huff, coming back towards us with a powerful stride.

"You cannot tell me you're alright with this." he moved past Rick

"No I'm not, but we're guests here. This isn't our land."

No offense Rick, but this is a little more important than being good house guests.

"God, this is our lives! Man" Shane pulled off his hat, arms swinging down in exacerbation.

"Lower your voice." Glenn warned, shooting a nervous glance at the barn doors.

"We can't just sweep this under the rug" Andrea interjected.

I hate to say it, but I agree with Andrea and Shane on this one. Even if it means upsetting our hosts, this isn't something we should ignore.

"It ain't right. Not remote" T-Dog spoke up

"We either gotta go in there, we've gotta make things right, or we just gotta go. Now we've been talkin' about Fort Benning for a long time—"

"We can't. go." Rick cut Shane off

"Why, Rick? Why?" Shane argued, fed up with this shit; frankly we all are, to be honest.

"Cause my daughter's still out there" Carol stepped up.

I watched Rick glance at Carol over his shoulder but there's something off about his expression. What was that? Guilt? For what?

"Okay, okay" Shane covered his mouth & nose with his hands. "Okay, I think it's time we all just consider the other possibility."

"Shane. We're not leavin' Sophia behind" Rick put his foot down.

"I'm close to findin' this girl. I just found her damn doll a few days ago." Daryl moved beside me, in front of Carol and started pacing.

"You found her doll, Daryl. That's what you did— you found a doll." Shane stressed, leaving a moment of silence to fall.

Oh shite, this is gonna get ugly.

"You don't know what the Hell you're talkin' about!" Daryl swung his arm at Shane, moving forward but I jumped in front of him, cutting off his clear path to start a fight.

"Hey man I'm just sayin' what needs to be said here. Now you get a good lead, it's in the first 48 hours." Shane kicked off.

Please, don't take that bait Daryl.

Rick put his arm out in front of Shane, trying to detour the fight from getting physical but God— I think it's inevitable.

Daryl & I may be partners but I can't stop these two by myself without threatening their lives.

That may have worked on Merle but Merle was just an asshole, he wasn't stupid, I seriously doubt the same tricks will work on these two.

I put my hands on Daryl's arms, blocking him from getting any closer as he paced back & forth like a shark circling in the water but he didn't even glance at me; itching to get at Shane.

He could go at any second. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscles on his neck straining.

"Shane" Rick put himself at my back, between Shane and Daryl, trying to stop this. "Shane, Shane stop."

The backup is much appreciated, Officer. If he can get his partner to back off, I can try to get mine to walk away. He'll still be steaming for a while, but I can keep him at a distance till he cools down.

"Let me tell you something else, man. If she was alive out there and saw you comin'"

If? I looked over my shoulder at Shane, running his mouth.

"All methed out with your buck knife— geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction, man!"

My effort in keeping Daryl back dropped with my jaw.

The skin under my fingers disappeared and Daryl all but launched around me.

Daryl went for Shane and I was gonna let him, but Rick got between them and I jumped in front of Daryl again, pushing him back; for Rick's safety.

Hell at this point, if I had a clear shot, I'd knock Shane's ass out myself. If he's lucky.

Rick and Glenn both at my back, worked to push Shane back. I can handle Daryl on my own, but there's so much shouting I can barely hear my own thoughts.

I finally got Dixon to look at me, by pushing hard on his stomach, almost hard enough to push him back, and as soon as his blue irises locked on me, I gave him a warning look.

He ground his teeth a moment, no doubt seconds from snarling at me but surprised me a little by reigning in his temper enough to stop trying to get past me.

It's not a fight he'd win. His brother learned that the hard way, but I didn't think Daryl had learned just from watching & scoffing on the sidelines that day.

There was a lot of pushing but all the shouting came to an abrupt stop when Rick forcefully pushed Shane back, shouting, "Back off!"

"Keep your hands off me." Shane warned Lori in front of him, before he started to storm off.

"Now just let me talk to Hershel." Rick called. "Let me figure it out"

Ah Hell, Rick.

"Man, what are you gonna figure out!?" Shane went as if he was gonna go after Rick.

I jolted, ready to do a lot more than grab or push him back, but Lori beat me to it, getting in between them.

"Enough!" Lori snapped at Shane, pushing her hand against his chest; keeping him from getting any farther.

I thought this would end here, but it will end one way or another.

I felt a presence behind me just before Daryl came into my vision, tapping my elbow.

I glanced down and slowly released my knife, letting it slide back into the sheath.

"If we're gonna stay, if we're gonna clear this barn. I have to talk him into it. This is his land." Rick gestured widely to both the barn and the fields around us.

"Herschel sees those things in there as people." Dale interrupted. "Sick people."

"His wife, his— his— his— his stepson" Dale stammered, gesturing to the barn just as wildly as Rick had.

"You knew?" Rick looked at him with an accusing gaze of disbelief, I didn't even know he was capable of.

"Yesterday. I talked to Hershel." Dale confirmed without missing a beat.

"And you waited the night?" Shane irked. As if he didn't have enough arguing material already.

An ache bloomed in my jaw and I forced myself to unclench my teeth but every muscle in my body is rigid and tense. Ready to react to whatever happens.

"I thought we could survive one more night. We did." Dale stated, 100% done with Shane's hissy fit.

If anyone can shut down an argument, it's Dale. The man has a gift.

"I was waiting until this morning to say something but Glenn wanted to be the one." Dale motioned to Glenn and he nervously glanced at me. I'm guessing he never told Dale, that he told me about this last night.

I gave Glenn an affirming nod, hopefully conveying he did the right thing.

None of this is his fault. This was gonna happen no matter who or how they found out.

I watched Daryl put his hands on his hips, looking at the barn with a fierce scowl, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

He's still pissed but it's a step down from the livid state he was at a moment ago.

He'll cool down so long as no one exacerbates this argument, again. Uh-huh, I'm lookin' at you, Rick.

"The man is crazy, Rick, if Hershel thinks those things are alive or no—!" Shane shouted and the barn doors banged, pushing against the numerous locks on the door.

I jumped, pulling my knives before the signal fully reached my brain.

The chains on the doors strained and rattled.

Growling erupted from the inside and grew louder with every thud and scratching of rotting broken fingernails on faded wearing wood.

My jacket was tugged from behind and I glanced over my shoulder to find everyone retreating, Daryl right behind me moving back himself.

I walked backwards, knives still up until I was a good distance from the doors and turned to follow the quick pace of the entire group as we all headed back to camp.

Many eyes still looking over their shoulders every few seconds.


	52. Chapter 52

Frickin' biscuit tins...

I trudged through the grassy field all by my lonesome, running a hand over my forehead, pulling the stray strands back.

What the Hell are we supposed to do about this? We can't just leave it be.

If it wasn't made of pliable —breakable— wood, I might've considered leaving it alone for now, in favor of a more diplomatic solution, but this… There's no way the others — _officer hothead—_ is gonna let this slide.

We never would'a stuck around this long if we'd known that was here.

Hell if Shane had his way, we'd have run for the hills or burned the damn thing to the ground. It's not like that's a plausible option, though.

I mean for one, Hershel might actually shoot someone for that— not that I would blame him, if what Dale said about his beliefs and his family being in there is true.

For another thing, burning it down would not only be a huge risk with all the smoke, noise, and ash it would send into the air, but it has the potential of burning down the entire property. Then where would we be?

I sighed, kicking at a half buried rock. I stopped, resting my hands on my hips.

We didn't even know it was there until now, so obviously it isn't an immediate threat, but it isn't a cozy thought having a herd of walkers —idle or not— this close.

I admit, it would be a bit of a different story if we were living in a structure— a building, and not thin fabric tents but there's no telling how this is gonna go down.

I glanced up, blowing air outta my mouth and caught sight of Daryl headed into the stable.

What's he doing? I thought he's still supposed to be recovering, did Hershel clear him already?

Heading towards the stable, I reached the entrance and looked in each of the stalls as I walked down the center.

Daryl come out of a little side room just ahead of me, lugging a saddle.

He dropped it on a metal stand and flinched, grunting as he held his side.

I jolted forward, stopping the stand from tipping over; instead of trying to grab him like I almost did. He's not usually one for touch, or accepting direct help as I've learned.

"You can't" I looked over as Carol hurried up to us from the open entrance.

How long has she been there?

"I'm fine." Daryl growled in annoyance.

Are you? Lift your arms above your head, and I'll believe you.

He stalked towards the bridle hung on the wall behind him, and I could'a sworn I saw him roll his eyes.

"Hershel said you need to heal." Carol argued, motherly concern lacing every aspect of her voice.

"Yeah, I don't care." He turned his back to us, opening the stall door to a chestnut horse.

I resisted the urge to groan. Figures as much. I knew it was too soon for him to be okayed to head out.

"Well, I do." Carol moved forward to see into the stall.

That makes two of us. As much as I would like to have him back out there, I'd rather he doesn't die trying. Trying to physically stop him from doing _anything_ has yet to work.

"Rick's going out later to follow the trail, and Eve's going out too."

I nodded, giving a firm grunt so Daryl didn't need to look for confirmation while he situates the bridle.

"Yeah well, I ain't gonna sit around and do nothin'."

"No, you're gonna go out there and get yourself hurt even worse." Carol crossed her arms.

Daryl didn't respond, but he didn't stop, so obviously this is gonna take more convincing.

"We don't know if we're gonna find her, Daryl."

My breath caught in my chest. Daryl turning only vaguely registered, while I stared at her.

My mouth started to dry out with my lips parted as they are, but all I could do was stare.

"We don't." Carol glanced at me.

Her eyes glistened, as her fluttery gaze moved between us.

"I don't." Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper, almost so quiet the non-existent wind was drowning her out.

I don't know how long we just stood there, in silence, until Daryl slowly stalked up to her; the movement almost predatory.

"What?" Daryl's voice wasn't half what I saw coming.

There was no malice, aggression, or even confusion. It was flat; stale. The farthest thing from what I know him to be.

Carol shifted, almost like she'd been backed into a corner. "I can't lose you too"

If it wasn't before, my jaw is slack now; staring at the mother of the child, we've bled trying to find.

I barely noticed Daryl drop whatever was in his hand, and move towards the saddle I stood next to.

Daryl and I must have mirrored expressions because tears dropped from Carol's eyelashes; her lip quivering as she glanced between us.

I shook my head. There's no way in Hell I'm giving on Sophia, but I didn't know you— her mother, already has.

I jerked back as Daryl grabbed the saddle and chucked it as hard as he could off the stand.

The heavy saddle didn't go far but it was still enough to make Daryl double over.

I took a half step towards him without thinking, but he shot me a glare and I took the hint; staying just close enough I can act, if need be.

"Are you alright?" Carol rushed forward but Daryl staggered away from her.

"Just leave me be!" Daryl's arm swung out as he stumbled even further and I moved as he finally regained his balance.

"Stupid bitch" Daryl grumbled as he passed by me.

My eyebrows shot to my hairline, and I felt my jaw actually pop from how fast it dropped.

I stared at his back as he disappeared outside. He sounded like _Merle_.

Coming from his brother, I wouldn't have bat an eye, but from you, Daryl…

I thought you understood.

I glanced back to Carol and the look of hurt on her face, broke my heart. She looks like she's just been told her daughter's _dead._

My hand moved on its own to touch her shoulder.

It's more hesitant and careful than it probably should be, but she didn't shake me off, so at the very least it must not be the _wrong_ thing to do.

I'm not used to or particularly good at comforting, I've always seen it as a band-aid solution; but I am good at something else.

He may have as much right as I do, to be angry right now, but _that_ is _not okay_.

My jaw set, I _felt_ my eyes harden, and was moving before I even told my legs to. The moment I got outside, I spotted him in the field. My boots hit the ground in heavy succession for once in my life, and I don't care if he hears me coming or not— I hope he does.

" _Hey_ "

Daryl turned and my palm collided with his cheek.

He staggered back, eyes fixed on me, stunned. His cheek already burning an angry red, but not even half a second passed before he directed his full Dixon-inherited fury at me.

" _The Hell do you think ur—_!"

"I would've expected this behavior from Merle, but _never from you, Daryl._ "

" _You—_ " Daryl stepped towards me.

"I thought you were better than this."

Stopping mid-step, he glared me down like only he can.

"You have every right to be frustrated and upset, but you _do not_ get to take this out on her." I snapped through clenched teeth.

Daryl's mouth opened but I cut him off before he could make so much as a sound.

" _Shit happens._ This isn't Carol's fault, and she didn't choose to lose her daughter. You wanna be pissed off, go right ahead. But you need to ask yourself, _what the Hell do you think she's been feeling?"_

Daryl's glare dropped to a mild scowl.

"She's been goin' out of her mind worrying since the _second_ Sophia left her sight."

My clenched fists relaxed to the point I could finally feel the tingling in my fingertips from lack of blood flow.

"That's her _child_ out there, Daryl. Alone in the woods, and she is _powerless_ to help."

Daryl took a step back, all anger from his posture disappearing in a snap.

"She has no clue where she is, no idea if she's even still alive. She could be hurt, trapped, starving, dehydrated, god forbid any number of things."

"We may be going out there everyday, but she's trying like Hell to get her daughter back. Even if she's dead, she's still going to look with or without anyone's help, despite how dangerous it is... Sound familiar?"

I didn't want to bring Merle into this— I didn't think I'd ever have to, but I'm sorry Daryl; I won't see you turn into your brother. Even if it makes me the enemy.


	53. It Begins

**I don't do AN's often but today is a special occasion.**

 **Today, December 12th, is this story's 1 year anniversary.**

 **To celebrate, I'm giving you all this special side story.**

* * *

A yawn escaped me as I locked my apartment door and headed for the worn ugly dark green stairs of my building.

I wonder if the bakery across the street is still open? I'm feeling like donuts for dinner.

I rounded the first of many corners and used the railing to swing around onto the 3rd floor steps.

Mmm, I'm not sure donuts are worth 4 flights of stairs though...maybe I should get take out too. Chinese and donuts? Yeah. I wonder what soy sauce on donuts taste like?

I jumped the last 4 steps onto the second floor and watched the creepy guy in apartment 2 look over from his door.

I blinked as I watched him shuffle inside, never taking his eyes off me —or more precisely my chest— until he was looking through just a crack in the door.

Does he think I can't still see him there?

I've gotta find a new place, somewhere where the neighbors aren't so...creepy.

Turning, I hurried down the stairs, swinging around the corner to the final set before the ground floor.

That guy makes my skin crawl.

"Um, Hi"

I looked over, and gave a friendly smile to the pizza delivery boy coming up the steps.

"You wouldn't happen to know which floor apartment..." he looked at a piece of paper in his hand. "9, is on, would you?"

9? Oh um...3rd floor? Let's see, 4 apartments to a floor— yeah 3rd floor.

I held up 3 fingers and he smiled.

"Thanks—"

The glass doors of the building shattered in a rain of shards, scattering across the ground floor and my arms instinctively came up to protect my face.

My ears rang as screaming erupted from the bottom of the steps.

Hazard lights blinked in rapid flashes from the doorway, adding panicked yellow flashes to the fight taking place on the ground.

" _Ahhh! Hel—!_ " The man on the ground's screaming was cut short by the vicious gurgling of blood filling his throat while the woman on top of him sank her teeth into his neck.

My eyes grew dry from not blinking but I couldn't bring myself to blink more than twice even though they're starting to sting.

That woman's hand is hanging from the tendon, and I don't think that's a necklace dangling outta her stomach.

The man's screaming drown in his throat but the absence only brought the chaos from outside to my attention.

I'd heard there were riots happening all over the city, but I didn't know it was happening so close.

My breath caught in my throat as more than bloodshot, milk-white eyes fixed on me.

Oh my God...

Her mouth is gone.

Her bone is exposed all the way up to her nose. Her tongue is hanging through her throat, hitting her collarbone.

What I can only describe as a growl made her tongue vibrate as she reached towards us.

Intestine spilled out of her gut, dragging on the ground as she stumbled to her feet.

" _Go_ " I grabbed the pizza boy's arm without thinking and the boxes clattered to the ground as I pulled him up the stairs.

The wet growling behind us grew with a crash, and I glanced over my shoulder as I pushed the pizza boy ahead of me.

The woman now covered in pizza sauce, and collapsed on the steps, but the man from before stood up.

His eyes fixed on me, and a growl much like woman's tore from his chest as he staggered forwards, spewing blood everywhere.

What in Merlin's name…

I took the steps two at a time, grabbing pizza boy and spurring him forward, flight after flight.

My steps thundered steps in time with my rapid heart. My lungs heaved, wracking my chest with every dry pant.

My boot finally slammed onto the 4th floor and I raced for my door, glancing to make sure the pizza boy was still following.

I pulled the keys outta my pocket and struggled to fit them into the lock.

Screams erupted down the stairs; it sounds like 's voice.

"What the Hell was that? What's happening!?" the pizza boy's rapid breaths beside me, picked up with his panic.

I heard doors slamming, footsteps, shouting, and most prominently the growling.

The key finally turned and I stumbled through the doorway, pulling him behind me.

I slammed the door shut behind us, locking the 3 deadbolts faster than I ever have in my life.

I backed away, staring at the door.

My dry mouth finally came to my attention as I swallowed, my thundering heart in my ears as I looked at the other person in my apartment.

The pizza boy took off his baseball cap, pushing his shaking hands through his hair.

"Agh, what the Hell— what was that? That lady she— and then he got up and—" I watched him pace frantically in my living room.

Believe me, Ace, if I had an answer I wouldn't be keeping it to myself.

We need information— we need to know what the flapjack's going on. But how? How the Hell are we supposed to figure this out—

The TV remote on my couch caught the corner of my eye.

I don't know if that's the quickest way to find out but I've gotta start somewhere.

I snatched the remote off the couch and turned the TV on, flipping to the only news channel I've got.

" —news. Riots and brutal attacks continue in the streets of Atlanta and nearly every major city world-wide. All off-duty law enforcement have been called in to deal with the chaos, including military personal."

A piercing scream outside ripped my attention away from the TV.

The pizza boy looked at me and I went towards the door, cautiously.

I looked the peephole, not getting close enough to touch the door but close enough to see outside.

The door across the hall was wide-open and even from here I can see blood.

Something flew through the opposite living room and shattered against the wall.

I jolted back, backpedaling from the door so fast I almost ran smack into the guy behind me.

I glanced around before tossing the remote on the coffee table and went around the back of the couch.

I motioned for him to help before I pushed it towards the door. He rushed around me and pushed on the other side until the couch back was against the door; effectively barring it shut.

"—president has declared a state of national emergency." The tv cut out and I whacked it in several places until it clicked back on.

Percussive maintenance is just about the only thing that works on this thing.

"—ment urging people to stay in their homes. Avoid all contact with the infected. " The picture came back to a cameraman on the street.

People are running in every corner of the screen. Screaming and incoherent shouting echoed from the speakers, cars on fire in the streets.

Rampant vandalism and looting raged in the background unhindered by everything except other rioters.

I've been in a riot before. They're chaotic, violent, and more than dangerous. But I've never seen anything of this magnitude, and I've never heard of cannibalism happening in one before.

A window shattered to the side of the cameraman, and two people tumbled out into the street; tackled like a football player.

The man's head snapped up, teeth pulling the flesh of the person under him like stubborn taffy until it _snapped_.

Bulged yellowing eyes fixed on the camera and my breath hitched in my dry burning throat.

The cameraman turned away from it to record the military gunning people down in the streets with assault rifles and my stomach coiled into knots that haven't been this tight since I was a teenager.

I felt my blood run the other direction. A cold anxious sweat broke on my neck, and set every hair on my body to stand on end.

I know it isn't a movie but it doesn't feel real, and I knew what was coming. My guts twisted, just knowing there's nothing I can possibly do to stop it.

The camera crashed to the ground without warning, filming nothing but struggling feet.

A blood curdling scream and the most chilling growl I've ever heard boomed through my speakers as blood ran across the ground.

The camera switched back to the news anchor but she looked just as horrified as the pizza boy next to me. Her hand covering her mouth, eyes fixed on her own screen inside the studio.

It was deathly silent for an agonizing time until her hand finally dropped.

I watched her throat bob as she swallowed and weakly cleared her throat, licking her red lips.

"We— We're now showing you feed from above, as the military is taking action in the streets."

The news feed switched to a helicopter shot, and it was nothing but a bunch of grey-ish squares breaking up rivers of black chaos. The screen looked like it had been taken over by ants, swarming around the fires dotted around the streets on screen.

Without warning, the TV shut off along with the lights, leaving us in silence.

The dim orange light of the sun fading over the horizon, ludicrously cinematical.

Heavy panicked breaths beside me drew me back to the delivery boy at my side.

"What do we do?" His lost eyes searched mine for direction.

Something beside my innards twisted in my chest. Something that hasn't been stirred in a long time, and my jaw set.

I thought this part of me was gone, but I guess childhood conditioning isn't something that ever leaves. I honestly don't know whether or not I should be grateful for it right now.

I went to my bedroom and straight to the closet, pulling out two backpacks. One, my Swiss Gear, I haven't used or needed since I got my first place when I was 18.

I swore to myself not to ever be in a position where I'd be using it like that again, but it seems I'll be needing it.

Going back into the other room, I handed the other bag to the delivery boy on my way to the kitchen.

I opened the fridge, setting my backpack on the counter as I did so.

Pack everything that'll last, eat the perishables first.

I pulled the bacon and yogurt outta my fridge and tossed them on the counter.

"What're you doing?"

I grabbed the 4 water bottles from the door shelves and motioned at him.

He came closer and I put two bottles in his backpack before going to the cupboards and pulling out all the canned goods I've got.

"Put those in the bags." I left him in the kitchen and went to the bathroom, plugged the bathtub and turned on the hot water.

The heat will make sure it's pure enough to drink but with the power out, the water likely isn't far behind.

I don't know how long we're gonna be here, but I'm not taking the chance we get stuck here for days without water.

I dug out the small simple first aid kit, as well as grabbing some sanitary items like mouthwash, toothbrush, dental floss, a few washcloths, a bar of soap, cotton balls, and the rubbing alcohol.

My hair tickled my shoulder and I backed up to grab a couple hair ties as well.

A lot of these things have multiple uses, especially the rubbing alcohol.

I grabbed all the medicine I could find and piled everything on the coffee table.

I went around my house, collecting everything and anything I saw a use for. Matches, my lighter, spare clothes, gloves, socks. I even found a needle and thread and stuffed them in the first aid kit. They may not be surgical tools but they'll do in a pinch; I've done it before.

I grabbed two of my 3 sleeping bags from the hall closet and a tent I got for my 22nd which has been sitting, untouched, since the day I got it.

Coming back into the living room, I stopped to watch the delivery boy leaning against the counter, eyes trained on the ground. I can see his arms shaking from here.

"What's your name?" I walked towards him.

He looked at me and blinked several times before answering, "Glenn"

"Glenn. I know how you're feeling right now, believe me. But even if you start to panic, you need to keep your head."

"But did you see that? _She ate that guy alive—_ "

"Whatever that was, whatever this is. It's happening. That's all we need to know. Right now, all that matters is _surviving_."

"But how are we supposed to— we don't even know what's going on."

"Look, this boils down to two things no matter how you look at it. We either prepare for the worst, or get caught off guard. Now I hope to Merlin's high heaven this is some sort a prank, or psychotic breaks brought on by the riots, but you saw the same thing I did downstairs. I don't know about you, but I don't think we'll get that luxury surprise this time."

He finally looked at me, blowing a slow breath out his mouth. Good, he's calming down.

"How do you expect us to survive—... _this_?"

"Same way humans have for entire existence. By being smart. Thinking before we act, and doing everything we can to get through. No matter how unorthodox or uncomfortable it may be. Starting with these." I lifted my backpack.

 **Continuation coming Christmas Day**


	54. Chapter 53

Daryl blinked, his gaze flitting to the side, away from me. His boots scuffing as he shifted where he stood. Thank God, it finally looks like I'm getting through to him.

"You should know better than anyone, how that feels."

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my forehead, smoothing my hairline back. "Losing hope isn't something you can help. It's not something most people can just regain at the drop of a hat. Everyone has a breaking point and it's not always the same. I don't think I have to tell you how easy it is to give up when the pain is too intense, but very few have the will to push through when that happens."

I leaned out of the way as his head turned downward, eyes casting to the ground.

"We've all made plenty of mistakes and we'll make plenty more. What we choose to do about them is up to us. It's time to own up to your mistakes, Daryl."

His jaw set, but his eyes didn't lift from the dirt & grass under our boots.

"I'm going out. You're staying." I set my hand on his shoulder, finally getting him to look me in the eyes. "You need to fix this, for both your sakes."

I lingered a moment longer before letting my hand slide from his shoulder and started off towards the camp.

I've gotta go tell Rick my route before I take off.

When I reached the edge of the field, I jogged through camp to the Cherokee beside the RV.

Rick and Andrea already stood hunched over the map on the hood and I slowed to a walk, coming around Rick's left.

"—also shows she could be moving this way south." Rick's finger moved along the map.

Rick jumped as I leaned against the vehicle and I couldn't help a smile.

He shook his head, with a breathy chuckle. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

I'd be worried about you if you did.

"You were saying" Andrea scratched her nose, trying to keep the amusement out of her smile.

"Right. If Sophia kept in that direction, she might've gotten out of the forest, and into the farmland." Rick continued, leaning over the hood once again.

You really think she got that far? I mean it's possible, but she's just a kid. Even a single mile over uneven ground would tucker her out.

"So we take 74 up to Ivy road, then push down south on foot through the forest 'till we hit Christopher. Go east a couple a miles, then double back."

Sounds like a solid plan but I can't help but feel like we're grasping at straws here—

"Rick"

We all turned, to Hershel walking up to us.

"Hershel. We just have our guns out because we're gonna go look for Sophia." Rick was quick to explain, as Hershel rolled up his sleeves in front of us.

I didn't even think about the guns.

"Before you do that, I could use your help with something." Hershel rested his hands on his hips.

Can this wait? If these two don't get going soon they'll lose the light while they're out there.

"Count me in" Andrea volunteered.

"Thank you, but I just need Rick." Hershel and Rick had some sort of mental conversation until Rick glanced back at Andrea.

She turned, securing her gun in her waistband. "I'll be down at the barn keeping watch until you're ready."

I looked between all of them, and resisted the urge to huff a sigh. What the Hell could be so important it takes priority over finding Sophia?

This is absurd.

I shook my head and turned back to the hood, knocking Rick's elbow with mine, maybe a little harder than I meant to.

He turned and I moved my finger along the map to show my route.

"You're going up to the ridge where Daryl went?" Rick cocked his head.

I nodded. I'm gonna try and continue on the trail he was following. It's the only one that's turned up anything since the first day.

Rick stared me down for a few seconds before sighing, with a nod. "Alright, I trust your judgement. But be careful."

Believe me, I will be.

Rick turned to follow Hershel but stopped, "If you're not back in 3 hours, we'll come looking."

Yes, sir. I gave a mock salute.

He nodded, cracking a slight smile before finally trailing Hershel to wherever this "emergency" is.

I shook my head, letting that huffed sigh slip and blew some of my hair off my cheek as I turned back to Andrea.

I motioned to the forest as I started walking and Andrea nodded. "I hope you find something."

I gave an appreciative nod before cutting across the camp.

I paused when I spotted Daryl & Carol headed off into the trees and a smile brought itself to my lips.

Dixon's really know how to piss people off, but sometimes...

I'm glad he actually took it though. If I'd tried to smack some sense into Merle(literally or not), he might have tried to shoot me.

You know...now that I think about it. If Merle were ever to apologize for something, that might give me nightmares. Whatever force on Earth could make _that_ man apologize, is not something I would _ever_ like to know.

Thank Merlin all Daryl needs is a little push on occasion. I know he'll do right by her. He's not Merle, no matter how much he acts like it sometimes.

Merle never feels sorry for what he's done. Wherever he is, I'm sure that hasn't changed.

 _If_ he's still out there, and I'd bet my right hand he is.

— _Merlin_ I feel like an asshole for that joke but it's too good to pass up. Call it payback for every time you called me 'silently but deadly', ya lazy douche goblin.

"Are you going out?"

I turned, finding Carl staring at me and nodded.

He nodded looking at his shoes and my chest pulled. I ruffled his hair, but he still didn't look up.

Something's wrong.

I leaned over to match his height and tilted my head until he looked at me from underneath the rim of his dad's sheriff hat.

"Just...come back, okay?"

My lips parted. I didn't realize I'd stopped breathing until my lungs started to squeeze but even then I had trouble getting air into them.

What would ever give him the idea I wouldn't come back?

I grabbed him and pulled him against .

"I will _always_ come back for you."

I stayed for another minute before pulling back, and poked the corner of his cheek with a smile.

"You don't need to worry, okay?"

He nodded, cracking the smallest of smiles.

I ruffled his hair again as I stood and let my hand fall as I walked away; albeit slower than before.

I glanced back over my shoulder to give him one last reassuring smile.

"I'll see you later, kiddo."

I watched him wave before setting my sights on the treeline and starting off on my path to the ridge.

I trekked through the mud just off the Greene's land.

This silt is like glue. I'm not even walking near the creek bank and my boots have almost come off _twice_.

Tell you what though. If Sophia had come this way, we wouldn't have had any trouble tracking her. She'd have left a trail of prints like—... those ones.

I stared at the stampede of footprints stamped all over the bank in front of me.

What the Hell…

They're leading out of the water and to.

My blood ran cold. A cold sweat broke out on my neck, and my lungs ceased.

Oh no

Without thinking, I pulled my knives and took off through the splattering muddy trail, following the prints.

The night at camp outside Atlanta when the herd came out of the trees, poured through my head.

Flashes of blood blinded me to anything except running. The acrid smell burned my nose even though it was a memory.

The screams from that night filling my ears and rolling over one another, amplifying until all I could hear was my own blood pumping in my eardrums.


	55. Chapter 54

I came up on the fence faster than I thought. The whole time I spent running nothing a blur in my memory.

Just as I feared, the tracks continued beyond the fenceline but I couldn't help but notice, the fence isn't damaged. It almost— looks like it was opened.

I followed the stagnating tracks all the way to the treeline, more cautiously; ready to jump straight into a fight, but I haven't heard any gunshots yet.

Normally that would be good but none of this is adding up.

I can't tell how many bodies there are from just these tracks, but it's more than one or two. That I'm certain of.

Shouting reached my ears as I came through the trees onto the grass field.

I almost tripped to a stop when I saw Jimmy leading two walkers towards the barn like a piece of bait; Rick and Hershel, handling them on the ends of snare poles behind him. All 4 of them iced like cake, in the very mud coating my own boots.

What in fresh Hell is going on?

Shouting erupted as Shane arrived on scene; running down from the house. The rest of the group not far behind him but at this distance I can't make out what they're saying.

I don't really need to hear the words. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what they're probably yelling about.

I ran as fast as my legs could push me across the distance between us.

Shane shouting like it's his career isn't unusual but 90% of the group packin' serious firearms and surrounding a couple a walker's on leashes like it's a damn underground fight? I'm not sure what to think.

"They're the things that killed Amy. They killed Otis. They're gonna kill all of us unless we do somethin—"

"Shane, shut up!" Rick yelled, struggling to keep hold of the walker.

My chest heaved as I finally reached Daryl.

I looked at him for explanation but he only jerked his head towards the scene unfolding before us.

Focusing on Shane's shouting, while the man stormed circles around Rick & Hershel, I tried to clue myself in.

Rick's walker flailed and it's arms swung towards me. I reflexively pulled my piece, jumping back as I trained it on the coveralled male walker.

"Hey Hershel, let me ask you somethin' man. Could a livin' breathin' person. Could they walk away from this?" Shane pulled his piece and shot Hershel's female walker 3 times in the torso.

"No!" Rick shouted.

Everyone flinched back, or like Daryl and myself, tensed to the point of almost pulling the trigger.

This is why you don't put your finger on the trigger 'till you intend to pull it.

"Stop it!" Rick shouted again but I can almost see it bounce right off Shane's skull.

"That's three rounds in the chest." Shane shouted. "Could someone who's alive, could they just take that?! Why's it still coming?" he pointed at Hershel's walker, before firing again.

"That's its heart, its lungs. Why's it still comin!?" he yelled, aiming again.

I watched the conviction melt out of Hershel's composure, as he watched the bullets lodge themselves in the unimpeded walker.

"Shane enough!" Rick shouted again, only this time it didn't fall on deaf ears.

"Yeah you right, man." Shane stalked towards Hershel's leashed walker. "That is enough."

One shot to the head. Like a goddamn drive by, and the corpse crumpled to the dirt; seeping stale blood onto the ground as it took Hershel to his knees with it when he tried to hold on.

My lungs ceased with a glimpse of Shane's eyes and before I realized it, the nose of my piece was following him as his mass of almost pure rage stalked back and forth between them and the barn.

"Enough, riskin' our lives for a little girl who's gone!"

"Ey" Daryl growled lowly beside me. I tried to look at him but my eyes wouldn't tear from Officer hot-head; not while he was stalking around unpredictably.

I couldn't stop myself from drawing alarming parallels. My throat ran dry, blood freezing in my veins. My heart thundered painfully against my chest. I could feel my pulse beating against my cold skin. Everything skyrocketed in to hyper-awareness; I stopped myself from pulling the trigger by a hair's breadth again and again; with every little jerk and unexpected move Shane made.

"Enough livin' next to a barn full a things that are tryna kill us. Enough."

Shane tucked his gun into his waistband. "Rick it ain't like it was before."

"Now if y'all wanna live— if you wanna survive. You gotta fight for it. And I'm talkin' bout fight. Right here, Right now." Shane ran for the barn doors.

"Take the snare pole. Hershel! Herhsel, take the snare pole!" Rick shoved the stick towards Hershel but the old man was unresponsive; on his knees, staring at the walker corpse in front of him, making no move to do as Rick asked.

"Hershel, listen to me, man, please. Take it now." Rick tried desperately but Hershel didn't budge in the slightest. He almost looks as if none of this is happening around him.

He's not even there anymore.

"Hershel! Take it!" Rick shouted, as I watched Shane grab a pickaxe and go at the barn door with the flat top.

It took me a moment to realize what he's doing but he's riling up the walkers inside.

I moved to stop Shane but Rick's walker flailed into my path. I short stopped and my boots slid in the dirt, knocking me off balance .

The back of my jacket pulled before the walker could grab my arm and my stomach soared as I fell and my arm shot out, catching me as the side of my thigh hit the dirt.

My gun clattered against the ground in my hand and a hand encircled my bicep as my heels dug into the ground, rushing to push myself backward, out of reach.

"Do not do this brother!" Rick shouted at the top of his hoarse lungs, but it did nothing to stop Shane.

I aimed at the walker as Daryl pulled me to my feet and let go once I was up, to re-aim his shotgun with both hands.

"Don't do it!" Glenn shouted over other voices as everyone began shouting.

Shane tossed the plank holding the door shut off and hit the barn door with his palms. "Come on. Come on, we're out 'ere!"

I glanced at Daryl as I scrambled to get to my feet, kicking up a whirlwind of dust in my wake.

"This is not the way! Please!" Rick shouted again, his voice growing more hoarse with each desperate shout.

Shane came back to the edge of the group and the doors pushed open as he raised his piece.

Andrea ran up on Shane's right as the walkers started to pour from the doors like a river breaking a damn.

I moved with Daryl to Shane's left and fired my first shot a millisecond before Daryl's shotgun went off.

T-Dog came up between Daryl and Shane, joining the shooting.

Glenn ran up on Andrea's other side and fired his own shotgun.

The walkers went down one after another, with almost every fire. The shotgun took off massive chunks of flesh but weren't hitting the head every time.

I didn't think a pistol could be more effective than a shotgun in a situation like this but apparently I live to be proven wrong.

I barely noticed Shane turning and sparing a shot to Rick's leashed walker but I heard it hit the ground behind me, even over all this gunfire.

The final walker fell with the last gunshot and I spared a glance down the firing line we've created in front of the mass corpses littering the ground between us and the enormous wooden structure.

I caught Daryl's eyes as he lowered his shotgun, while the others began turning away from the massacre we just inflicted.

I was about to follow suit when a growl drew my eyes and my piece back to the barn.

I waited for the walker to come out, and when it did, my lungs collapsed.

A small walker covered head to toe in dirt, stepped out into the light. Cloudy sunken eyes scrunched against the sunlight until they fixed on us. A filthy blue rainbow t-shirt hung off one shoulder; leaving an old blood crusted bite mark on her neck, exposed.

My knees hit the ground but all that registered wasthe shockwave sent up my body from the impact. The thick, far-off clattering of my gun hitting the dirt, echoed in my ears as if my head's underwater.

"Sophia"


	56. Patience

I motioned for Glenn to follow as I went to the couch and dropped my bag beside the coffee table.

He followed, pulling his backpack off the counter and took the seat next to me.

I haphazardly cleared off the dark wooden coffee table; the first piece of furniture I ever owned.

I unzipped my backpack, grabbed a pen & paper off the table, and started noting everything in my bag; Making a separate note for things to put in them still.

Staying here is a bad idea, but if there are more people out there like those downstairs, running through the streets in this chaos is a sure-fire way to get us both killed; especially since it'll be dark soon.

"Our priority needs to be getting these ready so when it's time to go, we move. We can't hesitate."

"Okay." Glenn nodded, breath still rapid but significantly steadier than before. "But when we leave, where do we go?"

We can't go back down the stairs with those people down there. Assuming they are still down there and not wandering all over the building by now.

I pulled out my lighter and grabbed the pack of crayons I tossed off my coffee table. I don't even remember where I got these.

The streets are teaming from what that news chopper showed. The screen was just black streams broken up by orange and separated by grey squares—…

Because there's no one on the roofs. That's our way outta here.

Choosing a random purple crayon, I cut the top off with a pair of scissors.

I waved the flame over the bottom and stuck the crayon to a random piece of junk mail, and lit the purple paper at the top I decapitated.

"We've gotta get outta the city." I finally answered, realizing I've been quiet for too long.

"And go where?" Glenn asked

"Somewhere with the least amount a people."

Fastest way out is the highway, but no doubt it'll be jam packed with the cars of everyone who had the exact same idea.

It might actually be faster to go on foot— not that we have a choice in the first place for starters.

My Harley-Davidson can fit two. That's probably our best option for getting out of the city.

Ugh, I had to choose yesterday to take it into the shop, didn't I?

I was supposed to go pick it up tonight, so at the very least it's ready to go. Assuming it's even still there.

If we can just get to two blocks down to the shop, w'll be good to go.

It's meant for urban terrain though, not long distance; and a motorcycle doesn't have any protection whatsoever.

That's risky with the riots and...cannibals.

Okay. If we have an opportunity to get another vehicle, we'll take it but if not, that's our only option.

I sparked my lighter and set up another crayon; red this time. The purple one still had a little bit to go but the flame went out just a few seconds after I lit the red one.

I sighed, blowing air out my mouth and sat on the floor in front of the couch. We should wait till morning to move.

I don't know why this is the go-to when you're distressed; Sit on the floor instead of the furniture, but whatever the reason I hope it helps.

Glenn sank down next to me, letting his legs stretch out beside mine; just far enough that our shoes are almost touching.

There are 3 floors above this one, four units per floor, at least one person per unit. There's no way to to know for certain how many of those...people, are out there.

There's only one main staircase for the whole building. How do we get up there without running into a nasty surprise?

I've gotta assume the entire building's residence are dangerous; whether they've fallen victim to those things or not.

Mmm, getting to the roof won't be easy. I scrubbed my hand over my face; chewing my bottom lip.

It would help if I knew what those people have become. I'm long past the point of hoping this is all some sick joke.

Nobody could survive what that cheekless woman did to that man.

If this were a movie it'd be easy to chalk it up to camerawork and some nice special effects, but up close…

I don't care if it's crazy, I know what I saw. No living person could just walk away from disembowelment.

I shook my head.

That sounds...familiar. Where have I heard that before?

 _Ahsh—_ I scratched my nails across my scalp, shaking my hair out.

It was recent. I know I've heard those words before. 'Can't just walk away from...'

Was I watching the news? No, no, it was a comment on something. A video comment.

Ah! That video I was sent Thursday, of the police shooting.

That homeless guy who attacked the officer, and was shot 10 times in the chest.

Could these be related to that incident? I mean that sparked the riots all over the country; it wasn't just happening here, there has been a lot of police shootings in the news as of late.

It's too similar to be a coincidence.

How did they stop that guy— I don't— was it a headshot? I remember a slew of comments about a headshot.

I heaved another sigh, dropping my head and caught sight of the food stain that happened right after I bought this shitty little table.

That brings back memories. I shifted to pull my legs up and hang my arms over my knees at my elbows.

Just me; alone in my first apartment. Nothing aside from this very backpack, a box or two, an old table lamp, and a couch cushion under my butt as I sat on the floor with my take out.

"Soo, uh..."

I looked at Glenn, watching his throat bob with an anxious swallow.

"You know my name but I never got yours." he looked at me, brown eyes drowning; begging for distraction.

"Rider. Evelyn Rider."

"You live here alone?" he glanced around, as if expecting someone else to suddenly walk down the hall.

I nodded and silence fell again. He fixated on his fingers in his lap, squeezing and releasing his fists.

This is gonna get awkward fast. He might start panicking if I don't keep him busy.

"What about you?"

Brown eyes came back to mine in confusion.

"Is there someone waiting for you at home?" I clarified.

"Oh— no..." He glanced back at his hands with a shaky lip quirk. "I'm ah— no, there's no one at home."

A breathy chuckle escaped me before I could stop it.

No need to get so flustered, kid. 'Ts just a question. But that sounded like he was thinkin' about someone though.

"Somewhere else then?"

"What?" He looked like he'd been caught in a lie, for half a second; opening and closing his mouth so much, you'd think he belongs in a fish tank.

"There is this— was this, girl."

I smiled. Now we're getting somewhere.

* * *

I listened to Glenn talk while I did my best to make food out of the perishables in the fridge but without the stove I had to get creative with a few candles and other kitchen supplies.

Somehow it's relaxing my nerves to listen to him go on and on. The things he's talking about have no real relevance. I've got a feeling he's just sayin' whatever comes to mind, but if this helps keep him calm, I'm all ears.

I haven't said much the last two hours since I poked about that girl he liked, but he doesn't seem to mind my lack of input.

I handed him his plate, as I sat down again.

I didn't realize how hungry I was until I shoveled the first forkful past my biters.

I was a bit worried about not being able to eat after the scene in the lobby earlier but my stomach is apparently stronger than I thought.

It didn't take long for both of us to devour our food. I mean leftover Chinese and bacon & eggs is an odd combination but it's surprisingly alright put together.

I got back to setting up our packs as soon as I cleaned my plate and pushed it aside.

We still have a number of hours before daylight though. Assuming my phone's clock is still right; even without service.

"You should try to get some sleep. This may be the last chance we get for a while."

"I don't think I could sleep if I wanted to." he muttered, lighting another crayon and drawing in the wax of the melted ones with a paperclip.

I stood up and went to the hall closet, pulling out every blanket and pillow I've got. I'm a bit of a hoarder for these so it took a few minutes.

"What're you doing?"

I scattered the blankets and pillows on the floor, all around the coffee table and beside the couch.

I held up one finger before searching around for the velvet pouch I know is here somewhere.

It actually was a good idea to keep these for all years. I'm glad I kept them around.

I sat down at the coffee table, pushing things aside and pulled the cards outta the pouch.

"Blackjack or Go fish?" I started shuffling.

Glenn chuckled, and took off his cap, dropping it on the table. "Go fish"

I smiled and dealt the cards.

* * *

A good hour passed and things grew silent; nothing but the sound of even breathing to fill the apartment.

Glenn's cheek squished against his cards on the table. It looks uncomfortable but he must've been exhausted.

I'm struggling to believe how quiet it is. It's surreal.

I've been here for almost 5 years and between the couple constantly fighting upstairs, and the late night club DJ next door, it's never been this quiet at night.

I keep finding myself checking my ears for the earplugs I sleep with but they're never there.

I don't even know if those people ever made it back to their apartments, or if they're part of the rioting outside— if they ever even left today; for all I know, they've been there all day.

I've checked the backpacks three times now, but even if I close my eyes, I know I won't sleep.

Even with my eyes shut, my ears are still open; listening to every little shift in sound.

 **Final part coming New Years!**


	57. Chance

A piercing whistle had my eyes springing open, and flying around my apartment moments before I was sent to the floor.

With the force of a natural disaster, the whole apartment shook.

My ears rang with the sound wave accompanying the screaming outside.

My eyes locked with Glenn's upside down gaze beside me, as he looked at me from on his back.

I pushed myself up, going straight for the window, and all but tore the curtains off the rod throwing them back.

Orange light flared through the apartment, and I felt like the air had been sucked straight from my lungs with a vacuum.

Towering flames beneath billowing columns of black smoke engulfed and poured from the skyscraper in front of me.

The crackling could be heard through the humming window pane even from this distance.

My eyes turned to the sky with the whipping of helicopter blades, and unmistakably military choppers flew overhead, deeper into the city. I don't have to see or hear the aftermath to know what the black specks falling from them are.

Tingling bloomed in my grip on the fabric as I let it go.

Horror pushed through my veins like a freight train, my feet carrying themselves backwards until I nearly tripped and barely managed to steady myself before I flattened Glenn.

Oxygen returned to my lungs with the sudden acrid smell of smoke.

My pulse pounded against my neck with the shot of adrenaline that burst through my muscles, eating the horror alive.

"What's going on out there!?" Glenn scrambled to his feet, using the table as leverage.

I grabbed the backpacks, shoving one into his chest. "We've gotta go"

"I thought you said to leave in the morning—!"

"That was before I knew the military was gonna drop bombs in the streets." I threw the window open and swung my leg out, looking at him.

"I can't tell you it's gonna be okay, but I can tell you this. Those who move, survive. If we stay here, we die." I ducked under the pane and pulled my other leg through, standing firmly on the fire escape platform.

At the very least, it's not as dark as it would have been before. All these fires will keep the city lit for god knows how long.

I hope you are one lucky fish, Ace. That's the only way we're getting out of this without falling prey to a goddamn bomb.

I scaled the first flight of metal steps as Glenn came out behind me and was hot on my tail.

"Why are we going up— shouldn't we be going down!?" the steps thundered underneath our heavy feet.

"You wanna run straight into those things grasp? Besides we can't get out" I flicked my wrist at the teamming street below us; clawing at and surrounding the burning car smashed into the front doors.

"I've been up here before, the buildings are close enough to jump. We'll use their doors."

"God— this is crazy" Glenn spoke under his breath as we panted going up flight after flight.

I never thought I'd see the day when the city sleeps; even if it isn't quiet.

No sounds of cars, no subtle hum of electricity anywhere to be found. No voices, or sounds of planes overhead; no honking from people stuck in traffic.

The only sounds in earshot being distant screams, the crackling of fire, the clanging of boots against metal, and gurgling moans from below.

I rounded the corner of the final floor and a pair of arms shot out from the window beside me.

I didn't have time to react before it had my jacket in fists and pulled me.

My chest hit the top half of the open window, my shoulder cracking the glass as it was forced into it.

"Eve!" Glenn raced up the steps

Instinct kicked off with a bang and I grabbed it's arms.

I pulled outwards as hard as I could, and a popping snap caught my ears before I even realized I was falling forwards and the the arm slammed into the brick wall outside the window; breaking backwards at the elbow.

The other arm grabbed me again, but this time I grabbed the side of it's head and slammed it into the window frame.

Glenn pulling me from behind, I slammed it again and again until a stomach-rolling crunch burst from it's skull as it caved in.

I was launched backwards at the abrupt lack of grip, Glenn grabbed my shoulders as I fell into him.

The railing made a dangerous clang as his back hit the railing behind us both.

My heart skipped outta my chest, for a moment believing it was gonna break, and my foot immediately latched itself underneath a stair to keep us from falling.

"Are you okay?" Glenn panted heavily next my ear.

That was too close.

Catching my breath, I swallowed and looked over my shoulder, nodding.

Unlatching my foot, I got to my feet and helped Glenn up. Only then did I take a proper look at the body hanging over the windowsill.

I waited with baited breath, counting the seconds in my head but I reached 134 and it still hadn't moved.

What was this guy, a soldier? He's wearing the typical camo uniform but…

There's something off about this guy.

I stepped closer, reaching for the neck of his uniform.

"What are you doing?!" Glenn stage-whispered at me, grabbing my elbow.

I put my hand up without looking at him, and carefully lifted the back of the shirt.

No chain = no tags.

A soldier that isn't wearing his dog tags. That'd be a first for me.

I whacked it, just in case but this sucker is definitely dead.

Why did this one die but those dragging their guts on the ground aren't?

"Eve?" Glenn's ansty voice called me out of my head.

Ugh, we don't have time for this. I'll think about it later.

I licked my dry lips but they tasted like ash and I had to resist gagging. I started to turn but a gleam stopped me and I did a double take.

I reached over, moving the corpse's arm and paused when I got a good look at his waist.

Even if he wasn't a real soldier, this guy sure doesn— didn't mess around.

I pulled the pistol from his waistband and checked the clip. Fully loaded; not a single shot fired.

Why isn't this in his holster?

I checked the thigh holster I could see, expecting there to maybe be another gun in it but I was wrong. It wasn't a gun, but it wasn't empty.

I pulled the gleaming knife from its sheath, the blade reflecting the fire from all around.

Good lord this feels like I'm in a Tolkien film the way this thing glints. The one knife to cut them all.

I slid the blade back into the sheath and reached underneath his gut, unbuckling the utility belt. It swung loose at the waist but the buckles on the thighs were still done up.

I passed the gun to Glenn and he took it with a strange nervous sound. Has he ever held a gun before?

"Don't point it at me" I swung my leg through the window, carefully.

I moved as fast as I could to unbuckle the straps and take the belt, but before crawling back out, I spotted a bag on the bathroom counter.

What is that?

I snagged the bag from the counter, staying as close to the window as I could and opened it. No way.

I pulled the near peak condition night vision goggles outta the sack and found myself marvelling at them.

These could come in handy.

I don't know who you were dude, I didn't even know there was a person like you in my building, but whoever you were, you were seriously no joke.

I got out as quick as I got in, and swung my pack off my shoulder. Tucking the goggles in, I zipped it back up and secured it as it was before.

I clipped the belt on, doing the straps as well and did a test run for pulling the knives. They didn't catch on the sheath, or slip in my grip; high quality stuff.

I finally spared Glenn a look and was almost nervous I had. He looks like he's gonna be sick.

I watched him hold the gun like he was gonna drop it and carefully took it from him.

I was gonna let you hold onto it so we'd both be armed with at least something, but no gun for you. I doubt you know how to use a knife either.

We'll see if we can find you something blunt, like a baseball bat, Ace. That seems a little more your speed.

I motioned for him to follow once again, and we climbed the final ascent of steps to the concrete roof.

I went to the edge, Glenn following me closely until we both climbed up on it.

I stared down the alley between the two buildings, the gap is easily 6 feet.

I looked at Glenn, who almost simultaneously looked back at me.

"Are you sure about this?"

I nodded, straight up lying. Of course I'm not sure, but what other option do we have? It's this or them. "From this high, at least it'd be the fall that kills us."

Glenn let an almost-laugh breath slip before looking back at the gap in front of us.

"You see that highway over there" I pointed at the horizon where numerous red tail lights were piled in lines.

"That's where we're going? Is that a good idea?"

"You have a better plan? It's that way, or that way." I pointed down to the dirty alleyway below.

"Ready?" I geared up to jump.

Glenn took a shaky deep breath, "As I'll ever be"

I spared one final glance to the desolate city around us. Time to take our chances.

Here goes nothing.

* * *

I dislike author's notes myself, so I'll try to keep this short.

A deep set flaw within my story has come to my attention and now that I've seen it, I find myself unable to overlook it, and it wouldn't be right to do so anyway.

I've devoted many hours of thought to it, and have decided that given the convenient timing of the story at present, it would be best to this chance to resolve the issue.

I regret to inform you, this means I will not be updating until Feb 1st, 2018.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience; But in the pursuit for a greater story, I hope you will understand.

And if it's not too much to ask, I hope you will continue to support 'Sneaky' and myself, in the future.


	58. Chapter 55

**Hellllloooo~ everybody! Long time no see. It's been a long wait but I am finally back! As of today, uploads will resume as normal(every Monday). Thank you so much for your patience, support, and amazing comments. You guys rock and I am so grateful for every single one of you, I couldn't do this without you, but enough talk.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

I heard Carol's steps, mindlessly running toward the small girl; her pathetic cries for the dead girl, fracturing my soul.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daryl catch the woman, and take her to the ground beside me as gentle as possible.

" _Sophia_ " Carol cried in desperation, reaching for her child even from where she was in the dirt.

My vision blurred as I looked at her, and Daryl. Blue eyes caught mine as Carol cried out again, sobs wracking her whole body.

I tried to shake my head and bring back my control over my body, but all I was able to do. Even as Sophia— the walker, started towards us; stepping over the other bodies on the ground between us.

Carol's excruciating voice cut the silence weighing thick in the atmosphere.

I know what needs to be done, I know. But by the time I mustered the will to reach for my gun, and my dry lips parted for the shaky breath, Rick moved forward.

I blinked, my shoulders pulling towards the ground with the weight of what I had to let happen now. My teeth biting into my lips, while I watched as what used to be the little girl I played tag with, reached this side of the field of bodies.

I wanted to look away, I don't want to see this happen but looking at Sophia's eyes… Cautious, scared Sophia reduced to ashen skin and sunken, empty, twisting veiled hazel; but they're still her eyes. Still her freckles. Still her.

I shouldn't have been grateful he moved first but watching Rick raise his Python, the gun weighing heavily in hand, I knew.

I couldn't have done it.

I took my final look at the little girl I once knew. The girl I vowed to find, and closed my eyes as the shot rang.

I turned away, to the dirt between me and Carol before forcing myself to look at the outside world again.

My hearing cleared to a painful crispness. Carol's strangled breaths between cries, ringing in my ears.

I forgot.

I forgot why I don't make promises I can't keep. Why I always plan for the worst. Why I don't let my hopes get up. Why I don't believe in a higher power. At least not one that is merciful and kind; nor cruel and twisted.

"Don' look." Daryl lifted Carol to her feet, as I turned my eyes to them. " _Don' look._ "

Carol swung around, pushing Daryl off before staggering to a weak run towards camp.

I drew the back of my trembling hand to my cold lips; trying to calm the shake. I knew it was on my skin but I didn't feel it.

My hand fell, my lips parted, the muscles in my throat contracted as I swallowed. I knew the acrid taste on my tongue but it wasn't there.

The build of a shiver on my spine was there but never came. My chest hurt and my nose burned from inhaling the sharp scent of gunpowder and dirt, but even the pain of my physical state settled as a mirage on the surface of my mind.

The aches, stinging, nothing did anything to slow the hollow spreading through my bones.

I wasn't aware my vision hadn't been in focus up until the moment I found my eyes drawing to the black handgun in the dirt beside my foot.

I stood staring at it for long seconds. The vaguest question of when I had dropped it swayed across my thoughts, but wisped away like a spiderweb in the wind.

I crouched, reaching for the piece. Fingers coming to rest on the cool metal.

"A timid little girl in a dark forest, full of flesh-eating monsters… She never stood a chance. Did she?" I muttered so low, I barely heard myself.

A bitter smile twisted the corner of my mouth.

We were never gonna find her. Everything we did, all the blood we shed, the risks we took. None of it mattered.

I clamped my jaw shut; erasing all trace of any emotion that ever bled through, and squeezed the grip of the gun in hand.

Rising on numb feet, I forced myself to tune back into the world in front of me.

Hoarse desperate sobbing, hot tears, empty or grief & pain stricken faces on everyone in sight.

I tucked the murderous tool in my hand into the waistband of my black jeans, and put the numbness throughout me to use; schooling every part of my being to that distance.

There are things we need to do; for the dead, and those of us left behind. I can feel later. When the dust has settled, and they're put to rest.

I turned my gaze to Daryl, watching carefully, trying to gauge where his head is at.

He stood tense. His entire body rigid, watching Carol flee.

I can't even hope to imagine what Carol's going through. What it's like to lose a child, and god I hope I never do.

My ribs are cracking apart at the sternum, already and Sophia wasn't my baby.

Carol needs someone to lean on right now; someone who won't try to make it better.

It took me a few seconds to separate the different emotions in Daryl's face; most of it being dominated by that hard scowl he's mastered. The one that sometimes seems almost permanent, but when I managed, I walked to him.

Slow in my movement as not to startle, I set a light hand on his tense shoulder, squeezing with barely enough pressure to be considered pressure at all.

He looked at me, without hesitation; though the slightest stiffening of muscle under my fingers until he registered my face, didn't go unnoticed.

I lifted my chin towards camp.

Daryl looked confused— uncertain for a moment, glancing between me and the camp.

I squeezed his shoulder. "She doesn't need to be alone right now."

He nodded, and I let my hand slide from his shoulder as we started.

I walked with him until we past Carl and Lori, sitting in the dirt at the back of the group.

"You comin?"

I glanced at Daryl, not realising I had stopped. I opened my mouth, glancing back at Carl's back; slumped over. His shoulders looking so much heavier than any child should.

I looked back to Daryl, blue eyes searching me the same way I had before.

"I'll catch up."

He nodded, glancing at Carl and went on ahead.

My eyes followed his back for a few moments, before I returned my gaze to the boy who somehow looked smaller than usual, curled in on himself like that.

I sat beside Carl on his right, and as soon as I sat down he looked at me. Tears in his eyes, the pain on his face wrenching that hole in my chest so far I could feel it tearing.

I moved my arm around him and almost immediately he was buried in my chest. I wrapped my arms around him tight. Small shoulders shaking, and tears soaking through my shirt, but he wasn't sobbing.

The only sound coming from him being sniffles, and the gasps he took between silent cries.

Lori moved to rub his back but I moved my arm from Carl's back and held it open. She moved closer, giving me the slightest tight smile before wrapping her arms around Carl and leaning against me shoulder as I closed my arm around her as well.

I rubbed Lori's back, as Carl held onto my shirt and his mother's hand.

I caught Rick's eyes as he looked back at his family before they redirected to I assume Lori.

He moved to come towards us but crying turned to screaming, and I pulled my knife without hesitation, pulling Carl and Lori behind me.

Before I even registered what I was doing, my leg was in front of me, prepared to launch me onto my feet at a moment's notice.

Half the group darted forward to Beth, where she was in the midst of the bodies on the ground. Where a walker in her lap, had its hands pulling her hair.

Shane and Rick both grabbed Beth from behind. Rick shouting, "Pull her away! Pull her away!"

Glenn grabbed the walker's arms from the front as it tried to keep hold of Beth.

I pushed into a run as they pulled the girl and the walker apart, the other's stampeding around them not knowing what to do.

The walker turned its attention to Glenn, while T began kicking it in the head. "Head down— head down!"

It snapped for Glenn's hand and I slid on the dirt, shooting my leather-clad arm out, between it's mouth and his fingers.

"Eve!"

I grunted, clenching my teeth as it's jaw clamped down on the leather with a bite force no human should possess.

T and Rick scrambled to pull the walker off but Andrea thought fast and grabbed a sickle leaning on the barn.

T-Dog and the others stumbled back as she swung, planting the rusted tool straight through the walker's head; the tip piercing out of the forehead.

Glenn dropped it's arms, separating the walker from me as fast as possible.

He went straight for my arm not a second later. "Are you okay? How bad is it?"

I grabbed his frantic hands on my forearm, making him look at me. He calmed if only by a fraction, letting me slip my sleeve off.

I pulled my pale arm from the sleeve, looking at the thickest part of my forearm right before my elbow, where the teeth had landed.

It didn't break the skin. A wicked bruise is already forming but no blood, and no teeth marks.

A chorus of sighs erupted from those around. Bringing acute awareness to the fact no one —not even myself— had been breathing.

"Oh thank god" Dale broke the silence.

Note to self, leather is my best friend.


	59. Chapter 56

Everyone relaxed in exhaustion, now that it was finally over.

Rick scrubbed a hand down his tired face, before turning to look at the others; standing from his crouched position to wander back towards his family.

"What the Hell were you thinking!?" Glenn fired off, startling me.

"That, was stupidly dangerous." Dale chimed in.

I agree it was a stupid move— but… I can't be sorry for it. I wasn't gonna let Glenn get bit, even if it had been my bare arm.

That's not a risk I will _ever_ be willing to take.

I gave an apologetic look. I'm not proud of scaring them.

I got lucky, and you've only got so much of that.

I should have used my blade. I should've put the blade in it's mouth, not my arm. It was careless and idiotic, I know.

I should have thought it through. My dying doesn't help anyone; It's selfish to think otherwise. Just because I'd rather it be me, doesn't mean it should be _any of us_.

However I'd rather not get rung out further, if I can at all avoid it.

Clasping his outstretched hand, Glenn helped me to my feet. I gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze; hoping it put his concern to rest, though I know it's not likely to.

Hershel's family started to leave, and I gave Glenn a little push. Until he was trailing after them.

I know he wants to be there for Maggie— he should. I don't know her well and I'm not gonna claim to, but I recon, right about now she could use someone.

Shane went after them, no doubt to start something, like he always has to; Rick going after him.

I moved to follow but stopped, glancing at the others; who all look at a loss with themselves.

This is where I'm needed. Rick will have to handle Shane on his own.

I drew in a deep breath, straightening myself up and walked back to Carl and Lori.

"I thought I'd find her" Carl's solemn voice reached my ears as I came to a stop just in front of them.

"We all did" Lori looked at her hands in her lap, picking at the edges of her fingernails.

"I mean me. That I'd be the one."

Both mine and Lori's eyes drew to him.

"Maybe she was hiding somewhere. In a cave or in a tree. She'd be safe, and I'd find her and bring her back."

He wanted to be the hero; just like his dad.

"He did the right thing. Shooting her like that." He looked down at his hands clasped together around his knees where they rested in front of him.

I stared at Carl, mouth parting. A part of me mourned the loss of his childhood; there are too many amongst us who've had those days stolen from us.

I had hoped Carl would have at least a little more time to be a kid. I should have known better. This is what being a kid gets you.

It's not as if I know what childhood should be like, anyhow.

One thing I do know though. Carl is too young to have to carry the burden of understanding a mercy killing.

"I'd have done it too"

My eyes widened, at Carl.

I looked at Lori, and she stared back; my expression mirrored in her own.

"Dale?" Lori looked to my side, past me.

"Yeah?" Dale's weary voice answered.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. This being one of the few times I've seen him without his hat, when the sun's out.

"Could you take Carl up to the house?" Lori glanced at her son.

Dale nodded, coming over to my left.

"I want you to rest" Lori stroked down the hair on the back of Carl's head.

"Okay" Carl nodded.

I extended my hand, helping him up and watched him go off with Dale.

My gaze fixed on Shane as he came storming back. He passed us, heading closer to his masterpiece of chaos; down by Andrea who stood, after having laid a blanket over Sophia.

When or how she got that, I don't know, but I'm grateful she has.

Rick came up, not a moment later, dropping the Sheriff's cap onto Carl's head as he passed the kid.

I reached my hand out and helped Lori stand as Rick passed us, looking at the corpses.

"Want us to start burying?" T-Dog turned towards Rick from beside Andrea, as those of us still here, gathered to deal with the aftermath.

The only ones who could stand to stay being myself, Lori, T, Andrea, Jimmy, and Rick & Shane having just returned. Everyone else either couldn't keep themselves here any longer, or is looking after those who need it right now.

"We need a service. Carol would want that." Andrea piped up.

"Yeah, we all want that" T shifted his weight on his feet, closer to the blonde, as her eyes flickered down.

I looked at Rick next to me, who looks like he's not even here. Lovely.

It's unusual for him to not be paying attention. It's understandable that he's got something on his mind but what could be so important it can't wait for us to finish, well— funeral arrangements.

I scraped my bottom lip between my teeth and looked at Lori, raising one eyebrow.

Seeming to know what I was getting at, she shifted her hands out of her pockets.

"Let's— let's dig a grave for Sophia, and Annette and Shawn uh...over by those trees." she pointed to a small group of trees standing alone just apart of the forest line.

"And we'll need a truck to move the bodies." her voice wavered for a moment, obviously not used to being in charge when Rick's present, but she's good at directing what needs to be done. I'll give her that.

I suppose you can't be married to a leadership-bound person like Rick without picking up a few things.

"I'll get the keys" Jimmy started to move but Shane stuck out his arm, stopping the kid.

"No no. I got the truck." the officer stalked off with his hands resting on his belt.

I watched him, turning to keep him in my line of sight until he was a good distance.

"And the others? That's a lot a digging." Jimmy spoke again.

"We bury the ones we love, and burn the rest." Andrea answered.

I still don't understand people's want to be buried. Maybe it's bias, I'm not exactly the fondest of enclosed spaces, but I always thought it was weird.

I'd rather be burned like ancient kings, not rotting in the ground as maggot food; decaying for centuries— or however long it takes.

"Okay, let's get to work." Lori set everyone into motion, dispersing the gathering.

I focused on Rick, nudging him back to the present with my elbow.

He turned, eyes locking onto mine as I gave him the 'what's goin on' look I seem to be mastering as of late. One of my eyebrows has been getting quite the workout from it.

Lori took Rick by the side, motioning my follow with a tilt of her head and we moved just a bit away from the others who were headed off to their self-assigned jobs.

"What did Hershel say?" Lori whispered.

"He wants us off the farm." Rick answered in a tone of equal volume. "Or Shane at least."

Can't say I blame him.

"That's not a surprise." Lori shook her head, glancing at her dusty boots.

"We're lucky someone wasn't killed, and all that gunfire— more walkers could'a heard."

I watched Rick, waiting for his response but the blank borderline distressed look he's sporting is strange.

I've never seen him make a face like that before now. Lori seemed to notice too.

"Baby, what is it?"

Rick shifted, taking a deep but fatigued breath. "She was there, all the time."

"And you did everything you could." Lori's tone made my eye twitch. I know you're tryna help, and you've probably had this type of conversation with Rick before, but I'mma be honest with you. That sounded more than a little patronizing.

"Yeah I know. I always do, don't I?" Rick looked at the dirt, hands set on his holster belt, voice grainy and heavy with guilt.

"Went after her, protected her. But she still got bit —and Carl, still got shot." Rick gestured with his hand in no particular direction other than 'away' from the conversation.

"Mm-hmm" Lori nodded, showing she understood and was still listening.

Somehow I feel like I'm intruding on this conversation. Maybe I should just— go. This seems like a 'couple' conversation.

"People counting on me and I had 'em chasing a ghost in a forest." Rick's voice came close to breaking on the last word.

Whoa, hold up. _What?_

Lori reached out, touching his cheek. "Hey"

Rick pulled away from her hand, not in a sudden or violent retreat but enough to make her withdraw her hand.

Rick backpedalled and started towards the house before Lori could say another word.

Lori turned, with a distressed exhale and looked at me.

I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to convey my intention but my next action will be enough even if I didn't get my point across with this.

I jogged after Rick, who was already halfway to the house, and grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

He clenched his jaw but stopped nonetheless.

"Chasing a ghost? As opposed to what?" I gave him a chance to give me a reason but the obvious set of his jaw was enough answer to that.

"Abandoning a child and telling her mother, I'm sorry about your timid, terrified 12 year old but she's _probably_ dead so we're just gonna assume she is and take off, because we can't be bothered to keep looking. Even though we've got pretty much _nothing else_ to do."

Rick shifted, a bit uncomfortable; the startled action reminding me of Daryl. It's surprising that I'm actually getting used to this reaction whenever I open my trap.

However, it doesn't seem like he's gonna himself out of this self-loathing with just that.

"Rick, you made the right call. Even if the result wasn't what we wanted."

"How can you say that? When she died out there because a me— because I left her alone?" He looked at me, dumbfounded. His tone the definition of incredulous.

"And if she had been alive? Would you still be moping, about looking for her all this time? Would you still think it was a mistake? Or would you be thanking God you didn't give up?"

He stared at me, deeper thought flicking through his eyes; but not unattentive, as it had been earlier.

"You think Carol, or anyone else here would have forgiven you —or _ourselves—_ if she had been and we all just gave up before knowing for certain. You think we could of lived with that? That it wouldn't have eaten away at what's left of our consciences 'till there was nothin' left?"

I watched the muscles in his face contract in a million different ways, giving away the internal conflict I was creating. He knows I'm right, I know he does. Those pinched lines between his brow tell me so.

"Life is a vicious place full of cruel outcomes, but _you are not to blame, Rick._ Stop doubting yourself, or they will start to. And they can't take that right now." I pointed back the way we came, even though most of the group has broken off from there by now, Lori included. We are the only two left out here.

Rick looked at me in the eyes again for the first time since he diverted them after I started scolding him.

"If you spin off, who's gonna keep them safe? Shane? The guy who wanted to give up looking for a lil' girl because he couldn't be bothered anymore? Who put the _entire_ population of this farm in jeopardy because he couldn't take two minutes to think through _exactly_ what his actions would entail? —The peril his decision could bring down on us all?"

"Don't be such a fool. You won't always win —no one does, not even gods." I put both my hands on his shoulders, forcing his eyes to mine.

"Rick there's a _reason_ we follow your lead. We trust you because when it counts, you step up. Regardless of how things turn out."

He breathed deep, glancing at his shoes again but this time they didn't stay there for more than a few seconds; coming back up to meet mine, with that defeat all but a shadow in the iris.

"What's done is done. Death isn't gonna stop looming just because you feel bad. You have to decide now, whether to let yourself be destroyed by things that can't be changed, or to keep going in spite of them. If not for yourself, for the ones you care about."


	60. Chapter 57

Rick stared at me in a way I can only describe as stumped by a puzzle.

"You know for someone who doesn't talk much, you sure know your way around words. Remind me never to argue with you. I'd never win."

I raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled, shaking his head, and pat my shoulder as he moved around me towards the house.

So wait, did I just...win? —That feels like the wrong word— but… he said— I'm confusing myself.

I stared after him until he went into the house, out of sight.

He said to remind him never to argue with me, he would never win.

So does that mean I got through to him, or is he just deferring to what I said because he doesn't have an answer for himself?

I offset my jaw, running my tongue over my molars. My eyebrows knit together in something akin to frustration but probably looks more like pouting.

I scratched my head, and shoved my hands into my pockets. Starting towards the RV; still confused, and probably will be for a while.

I can't tell if I'm missing something, if he deliberately withheld, or it's actually straightforward and I'm just having a brain malfunction.

When I reached the RV door, I swung it open and Daryl glanced over his shoulder, from his place on the counter inside.

Carol shifted in her seat at the table directly across from the door, but didn't look.

I stepped in, closing the door behind me and watched her for a moment.

I'm not good at this. I don't know if she needs a hug, if I shouldn't touch her, if I should just go away and leave her be, leave her be but stay here like Daryl.

Everybody's different when it comes to loss— and what they need is not always what they want.

I'd know if it were Daryl, he'd want space and I would give him that but I wouldn't leave him alone. Even if he didn't know he wasn't alone(preferable).

But I've spent a lot of time with Daryl, it's not difficult to predict how he'll react, most of the time. Carol, though?

I don't know Carol well enough to know what she needs. I knew before she didn't need to be alone, but that much was obvious. Right now I can't tell what she needs.

I don't know if she wants us to leave, but needs us to stay. If fewer people here would be better than more; in which case I would leave it to Daryl, seeing as he's been here longer already.

Daryl tapped my arm, and motioned to the counter next to him.

I think I was staring at him, oops.

Moving around his knees, I folded my arms as I leaned against the counter on his left.

I trust Daryl's judgement more than mine when it comes to Carol. He seems to understand her better than the rest of us(me at least). Though I'm not sure how or when that happened— and I'm positive he doesn't either. If he's even aware he knows her so well.

I know enough to say her behavior conflicts with what she thinks. She thinks one thing but does another, and I know why.

Anyone who's spent even 1 day in a similar situation, or the system, would know.

A lot of the kids you see carr— carried, the signs.

Skittish, quiet. Look like they wanna speak but won't.

It's in the way the carry themselves, and how they look over their shoulders every few minutes, if not seconds, without realising they do it.

How their eyes trail over other people, watching for the sign they're about to be hit. Flinching whenever they receive an unexpected or just a tad too hard touch.

They move like a magnet of the same pole around other people; always standing with a radius of space between them and others. Even people they're close to.

Carol's like me, and Daryl, in this regard.

The three of us… We make a perfect example of how someone makes it through a situation like ours. The details may vary between us, even to the extreme, but there are only so many ways you survive through stories like ours.

You either become angry at the world, like Daryl; lashing out to protect yourself, but continue to be hurt by it regardless.

You become skittish and scared of everything, like Carol; always waiting for the next attack, but desperate in seeking someone or something to make it stop. A constant struggle.

Or you become like me.

Isolating yourself.

Learning everything you can about anything that even remotely relates to your situation.

Seeking strength, or power; any semblance of control. Eventually, you find it and either become like your abuser, or you get out by becoming an island.

Doing everything on your own— never rely on someone else. Always vigilant; watching others behavior as if waiting for an opening.

Reading body language more than, and in some cases better than, words.

Constant searching for the motive behind even everyday actions, just in case.

The only person you trust, is you.

It's better than being a victim. Better than being helpless.

Being able to take care of yourself, away from whatever life you're leading. That sounds like a pretty sweet deal when you're trapped; hurting, or being hurt.

But… that's a lonesome existence. Almost not worth living, if it weren't the fact it fosters a self-reliance mentality. The 'I will endure no matter how painful it is' mindset, doesn't allow the thought of giving up or giving in.

I don't think it's a bad thing to have that mindset, but the problem comes from the trust it withholds from others.

I don't know when I realized —though I know it was after I met the group, and before Rick came back— but living like that, _is hard_. And harsh.

Not just anyone can do it, and looking back at it now, it was killing me.

The constant awareness. Distrust of everyone and everything. Only ever being able to achieve surface trust of another person(trusting them not to stab you when you sit next to them but still can't turn off the hyper vigilance in their presence).

Always being alone, meant there _was_ no one to go to for help when I needed it. When even by my own power, no matter how much I fought or struggled for it, something was just not possible to do alone.

When you realize solitude is not as good as it sounds, things change.

It's difficult to be reminded, humans are social creatures. We need a pack. Being lone wolf doesn't work, no matter how appealing it sounds.

It's just the way we're wired. To seek out even just one other being to trust; even if you don't realize you're doing it.

I didn't. Not until long after it had happened.

Trust is like friendship. By the time you acknowledge it, you've already been that way for a long time.

For it to be Daryl of all people, to remind me carrying every ounce of your own trust, is one of the heaviest things in the world…

I wouldn't have believed it when we first met— not even after the CDC.

Hell, I didn't believe it right up until the moment I accepted it. That much didn't happen until after he proved to be worthy of that trust; without realising, or intending to.

Now that I think about it. The moment someone proves to be trustworthy(whatever that entails for you), is when you let go.

When you let them carry that trust for you. Whether you realize it or not—

The door opened and both Daryl and I turned. I leaned forward a bit to look around him, until Lori stepped inside.

She watched Carol for a moment. A look of mourning twisting her tired features, before casting her gaze to the floor. "They're ready."

I looked to Carol, and watched as she shook her head. Not looking at Lori; not even moving her eyes from the grimy table, where they've been since I myself walked in.

Not so much as turning her shoulders so her back wasn't to us.

"Come on." Lori tried gently.

"Why?" Carol asked, shaking her head. Her voice filled with disinterested despair.

"Cause that's your little girl." Daryl surprised me by being the one to answer.

"That's not my little girl."

My lips parted. Carol finally turned towards us, just enough her watery eyes could look at Daryl. "That's some other...thing."

She blinked, eyelids stuttering as she looked away again; Turning out the window opposite of us.

"My Sophia was alone in the woods." She nodded, as if to affirm the notion in her own mind.

"All this time I thought..." she shook her head for umteenth time. She took a breath like she was about to speak but sighed instead.

"She didn't cry herself to sleep. She didn't go hungry. She didn't try to find her way back. Sophia died a long time ago."

Silence followed and even as I heard Lori leaving a minute later, I couldn't move my gaze from Carol.

My mouth clamped shut as Daryl got off the counter with a rough exhale through his nose.

I watched him leave, finally able to look away from Carol. His jaw tight, steps angry but lighter than I would've expected as he followed Lori.

I moved to do the same, stopping to touch Carol's shoulder but I didn't make it.

My hand hovered behind her, fingers barely an inch from brushing her shoulder, but I couldn't bring myself to touch her.

Retracting my hand, I turned, stepping out of the RV.

I jogged to catch up to Daryl, and we walked in silence; Trailing after Lori towards the trees we had agreed the graves would lie under.

I know she's in pain, I know that. Everyone grieves in different ways.

I don't have any right to hold jack shit against her, Sophia was _her_ daughter, but that—…

That was cruel.

To Sophia's memory if nothing else.

* * *

Everyone accept Carol gathered for the funerals.

A simple large stone was placed at the foot of each freshly dug grave. The same stones Otis's memorial is built out of; gathered from the same pile.

I stood beside Daryl, between him and Lori at the far end of the group.

No words were said, or if there were I didn't hear them.

There was barely a sound.

All tears had been spent after those barn doors were wrenched open, and we were forced to shoot our loved ones.

All that's left is to stand as withered, hollow shells.

The second the first person walked away(Shane), it was like a trigger had been pulled. Simultaneously everyone accept myself departed; almost running away.

I watched Daryl trek into the woods. Why he's going out there? I'm not sure, but I can venture a guess.

It was mere seconds before I stood alone at the foot of the graves. One a good foot shorter than the other two.

Part of me can't believe how much disrespect is happening today, another understands why— understands what pain makes people do, and part of me is grateful.

Because with everyone gone, I don't need to be there to lean on... my knees hit the dirt in front of Sophia's grave; finally giving in.

The wrenching in my chest since the moment those doors swung open worsened as tears began sliding down my cold skin in waterfalls.

My hand covered my mouth, the other digging into the dirt painfully.

My lungs trembled.

My legs ached.

I choked on silent cries as I knelt over a small grave. The dust my knees kicked up made me cough with the first of sharp inhales.

My hand smothered every small noise, even hiccups, as I tried to keep from making anymore sound than was necessary.

Salty drops rolled over my knuckles, and slid under the pads of my cold fingers. My throat constricted with every desperate sound I wouldn't let pass. Every agonizing breath accompanied a sniffle from forcing my breathing through my nose.

My shoulders shook like I was on the verge of hypothermia. My white-knuckled hand stung in the dirt, as it clenched a small rock.

"I'm sorry", I squeezed my eyes shut, dropping my head until my chin almost touched my collarbone. I dropped my hand from my face, placing it on the stone before me.

"I'm sorry I couldn't— I didn't—"

My lungs gasped as if I was drowning. Cold wind brushing my hair off my neck and chilling my skin even further.

 _My lapse is the reason you were in that forest at all._

"If I had been watching the back like I always do— instead of running off to look through cars—"

"If I had gone back when I thought to— You wouldn't have been out there alone— Rick wouldn't have been the only one—" My forehead collided with the stone but even if I had cracked my skull open on it, I doubt I would've felt anything. "—you didn't have to die, _I could'a dealt with those walkers!_ "


	61. Chapter 58

I sat on the porch steps, staring at the dirt on my hands. The little bits of red mixed and congealing over previously _almost_ healed cuts.

My sore throat stretched with every breath; hoarse. Not that you could tell.

The skin under my eyes tight, pulling every blink. My face is probably still red, but I've been sitting in the sun. Hopefully it'll be mistaken for a sunburn if anyone sees.

I don't think I've _ever_ cried like that for someone. Not even myself.

...Never again.

Never again will I allow myself to be distracted from watching, never again will I second guess my instinct. Never again will my safety come before theirs.

The time for tears is over.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, taking a deep breath.

I jerked as smashing glass crashed inside the house.

In less than a second, I was on my feet running through the front door, knives in hand.

I ran through to the kitchen, finding Glenn and Maggie crouched on the floor beside Beth. Broken dishes scattered across the wood floor around them.

"Beth!" Maggie shook her sister. "Beth, what's wrong!?"

Her sister didn't respond, her eyes didn't even move; honestly she looks like an actor on TV whose just "died".

"We need to find my dad" Maggie looked at me.

I nodded and ran for the hall.

Glenn's footsteps followed me, taking the hallway, shouting. "Hershel!"

I grabbed the railing of the staircase as I swung around to the front of it, taking the steps two at a time until I reached the top.

I searched every room on the upper floor, to no avail, before running back down the stairs; jumping the last four steps.

Glenn almost ran straight into me coming back from down the hall.

I stopped last second, jerking back at the same time Glenn turned his shoulders, to avoid each other as I let him run past and out the front door, briefly shouting, "I'll go get help!"

I rushed back to the kitchen where Maggie was on her knees beside her sister.

I took a quick breath, and moved forward. I doubt Maggie's capable of deadlifting her sister off the floor.

I motioned for her to move before grabbing Beth's hands and pulled until the girl was in an upright position.

I braced her torso on my shoulder, ducking my head underneath her arm, before pulling and leaning back onto my heels at the same time.

Maggie's hands came around her sister, helping me lift as I braced my hands on the floor and stood up.

I groaned getting to my full height, before wrapping my arms around the girl's legs, while most of her bodyweight sat over my shoulder.

"Her bedroom?" I turned to look at Maggie, around Beth; being careful not to knock her dangling head on anything.

"Uh— this way." Maggie came around in front of me, and I followed her through the house. The wood floors creaking under my & Beth's weight, which made a strange uncomfortable feeling blossom in my gut.

Glenn came back as soon as I laid Beth down, and stepped aside to let Maggie be by her side.

"I couldn't find Hershel" Glenn panted out of breath, eyes frantic as he looked at me.

"What's happening to her?" Maggie looked to me as well and in that moment, all I could see were two scared kids. I forget sometimes how much younger than me these two are. They haven't been adults for nearly as long as they seem.

I set my hand on Maggie's shoulder; using my other with a flat palm, motioning down.

She needs to calm down, for Beth's sake. Running around like headless chickens will do more harm than good.

I motioned for the two of them to stay here, as I went out the door on the opposite side of the room.

Two doors to your bedroom would get annoying but right now, it works out better for us.

I ran outta the house, looking for Rick, or Daryl, or even Shane but Lori coming towards the house from the path that leads down to the barn, caught my attention first.

I shoved my fingers in my mouth and a loud whistle pierced the air.

Lori's eyes snapped to me in a blink, and I whipped my hand in a 'come' motion so hard I heard my wrist crack.

I turned back to the house as soon as she started running, and held the door open.

I spotted Rick and Shane, running out of the treeline from the camp as Lori hit the steps.

They must've heard the whistle.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Lori panted, following me through the house as I lead her to Beth's room.

As soon as we reached the door, Maggie looked at Lori and the words tumbled out of her mouth. "What's wrong with her?"

Lori looked at Beth on the bed, and after a few shocked seconds, spoke with remarkable composure in her voice; despite how hard she's still breathing. And the internal panic I know she's having because of how tense she is, next to me. "She might be in shock. Where's hershel?"

"We can't find him anywhere." Glenn answered from where he was leaned against the wall on the other side of the room, arms crossed over his chest.

Good, he seems to have calmed down quite a bit. That'll be good for Maggie's composure too.

"What's goin' on?" I looked over my shoulder at Rick and Shane.

I turned towards them, and Lori came around me from the doorway.

"Beth collapsed, and we can't Hershel." Lori stepped back from the door, like she was trying not to let Maggie and Glenn hear her, though the door is wide open.

Rick and Shane looked at each other before walking down the hall.

I followed after them, Lori, Maggie, and Glenn all on my trail a moment later.

* * *

"Your stepmother's things?" Rick shifted stuff around in a cardboard box sitting on Hershel's bed.

Half the room is packed up, all women's things. Dresses, clothes, perfume, shoes, everything except pictures.

"He was so sure she'd recover." Maggie leaned against the dresser on the other side of the bed from me, putting her fingers in her pockets. "They'd just pick up where they left off."

"Looks like he found an old friend." Shane tossed something to Rick, from where he was leaning on a larger dresser on the other side of the room from me.

Rick caught it, easily; turning the old flask over in his hand.

It's time like these when I'm reminded Rick & Shane were cops— partners, before all this.

"That belonged to my grandfather. Gave it to dad when he died." Maggie took it from Rick, looking at it as if she was surprised to see it. But clearly she's seen it before.

"I didn't take Hershel for a drinker." Rick glanced at me, from my place leaning against the doorframe.

"No, he gave it up on the day I was born. He didn't even allow liquor in the house." Maggie went back to the nightstand/dresser, leaning back again. The flask still in hand.

Oh I know that face, Officer. That's your thinkin' face.

"What's the bar in town?" Rick moved around the bed and I moved farther into the room, to stand at the foot; closer to Lori who was sat in a chair just underneath the window across from the door.

"Hatlin's." Maggie answered. "He practically lived there in his drinkin' days."

"Bettin' that's where I'll find him." Rick muttered absently, glancing at Shane.

"Yeah I've seen the place. I'll take you." Glenn moved from Maggie's side in front of the walk-in closet door, towards Rick.

"All right. I'll get the truck." Rick waved as he moved for the door.

"N— no." Maggie stopped Glenn with a hand on his arm.

"It's an easy run." Glenn's voice was laced with confusion as he stared at the brunette; Sparing a glance at both me and Rick, as if we'd have an answer as to why his girlfriend would object.

"Like the pharmacy?" Maggie asked.

Pharmacy? What happened with a pharmacy? What is she talking about?

"Hey, Maggie?" Rick got her attention, and smiled like the reassuring police officer I'm positive he once was. "I'll bring 'im back."

Rick left the room just before Glenn began whispering to her, "Maggie, that was different."

Lori followed him out immediately, and I watched Shane as he moved from his side of the room to go as well, until all three of them were out in the hallway, already arguing.

At least Glenn and Maggie are trying to keep it between them with low voices.

Great. I'm caught between two couple's arguments. One of which is a back-assward love-triangle I don't even _wanna_ _know_ about. It pains me to even know that I out of everyone in the group and beyond, have probably known about it the longest.

I sighed, rubbing my fingers over my eyeridges; not listening to the argument happening right in front of me.

It's something about nearly getting killed, but 'abortion pills' was what caught my attention.

I snapped my fingers, and walked around the bed; catching their attention.

I gave a quizzical 'explain' look, and Glenn looked at Maggie, uncomfortable. But I know that face.

You have the worst poker face imaginable, Ace. What are you hiding?

You will tell me, but later. Right now, the priority is Beth. We've gotta find Santa— I mean Hershel.

I clapped my hand on Maggie's shoulder, looking her in the eyes. "He _will_ be back. I'll make sure of it."

Maggie stared back, searching my eyes. Her gaze directed down at my hand. My other hand. The one I put between the teeth of her step-mother's corpse and his leg.

I watched her throat constrict as she swallowed before glancing at Glenn and however reluctantly, finally nodded.

I gave her a solid nod and looked at Glenn, jerking my head towards the door.

I went out first, letting him hang back a bit to talk to his girl; even though they are following me out of the room.

Heading out front and down the porch steps, Rick's already got the red truck with the bed cover, pulled up and ready to go; Standing beside the open driver's side door, and counting the bullets in his hand for his python.

Rick looked up at me as I approached, taking out my own piece to check it over.

I don't use it often, but I keep it clean, nonetheless.

"Why'd you do it?"

I looked at Rick, confused. Well that was outta the blue.

"You had a knife in your hand. You could'a killed that walker easy. Why'd you stick your arm in the way?"

Oh.

I tucked my gun into my wasitband again.

I know why I did it. I know it was an irrational move but, "Wasn't thinking about it."

Rick gave me a weird look, like he was trying to associate a word with something that just didn't fit, and I sighed.

"I wasn't gonna let him get bit. Truth be told, if it were a choice between me, and anyone else here" I looked at him. "There is no choice."

"You're prepared to do that?" He turned his shoulders, fully facing me; stowing his trusted weapon in the familiar holster attached to his thigh.

"In a heartbeat. No matter how many times I have to make it, I will always make the same decision."

Rick's lips parted like he was gonna say something but nothing came out. He just continued to stare at me.

"It's odd. I've never had anyone I was willing to die for, before. I've taken a hit for a lot of people, but die?"

I glanced towards the house where Glenn and Maggie were just coming down the porch steps and stopped and the bottom to say something to each other again.

"...I should probably be worried about how easy that sounds, now." I could feel Rick's gaze on me but I didn't glance back until Glenn was headed towards us.

"You ready?" Rick asked, turning to Glenn.

"Yeah" Glenn looked at us but the way he shifted his eyes away makes my spidey sense tingle. Like before, about him hiding something.

He looks a little...dare I say, spooked.

I got in the backseat, as I was already on this side of the car, and Glenn was headed towards the other side. Besides, I kinda like the back better. I don't know why.


	62. Chapter 59

I watched the trees and scenery wizz by out the window as we headed towards town.

I haven't been over here before, neither has Rick as far as I know. Glenn's been navigating for him but he's been unusually quiet this ride.

We're already at the edge of town and he's barely mumbled a word. Just pointing for where to go for the most part.

I'd say he's been spending too much time with me, but I know that isn't true, because I've been by myself, with Daryl, or solving one problem after another for most of the past few days.

Alright, I've had enough of this. I scooted forward, to the edge of my seat in the center of the back; resting my elbows on the front seats as I leaned forward.

I nudged Glenn, and waited for him to look at me. It didn't take long for him to cave to my gaze.

"Maggie said she loves me."

"Mm-hmm" Rick glanced over, nodding.

A toothy smile broke out on my face, and I punched Glenn's arm. I knew you two were a good match!

Glenn looked at Rick and me with an incredulous smile, "She doesn't mean it. I mean she can't."

What?

Am I looking at Glenn like he's stupid? Maybe. Is it justified? Absolutely.

The best friend rule, you're allowed to let your friend know when they've said some stupid shit.

"She— she's upset or confused." Glenn turned his eyes forward again. "She's probably feeling, like—"

"I think she's smart enough to know what she's feeling." Rick cut him off. Thank god.

"No. No." Glenn shook his head in denial.

Rick laughed, and our eyes met in the rearview. I couldn't help but snicker with him, because honest to Mordrid I cannot believe this is really happening.

Forget all those dystopian works, cause the world ending isn't a good enough reason to no longer worry about being confused and uncertain when it comes to love.

"No, you know what? She wants to be in love, so she— she needs something to— to, like— to hold onto."

Uh-huh, keep going. I think you've managed to convince yourself so far.

I knew you weren't great with the ladies, Ace. You're still pretty young, but...somehow I didn't see this coming. I really didn't think you were the naive, in-denial kinda guy. I thought you'd become a puppy at her beck and call.

"Glenn, it's pretty obvious to everyone Maggie loves you" Rick spoke over the top of him to stop Glenn's pathetic attempt at explaining this to himself. "And not just because you're one of the last men standing, so what's the problem?"

Glenn glanced at the ground in guilt— or regret? "I didn't say it back."

Ahh

I rubbed my forehead, licking my lip.

"I've never had a woman say that to me before. Except my mom, of course, and— and my sisters." He glanced at his lap.

"But with Maggie, it's different." I sure hope it is; otherwise you might need to sort a few things out with yourself.

"I mean— we barely know each other. What— what does she really know about me? Nothing. We're practically strangers."

That's never stopped love before. Romantic love isn't the only type pulling that either.

"But I— I didn't know what to do with it. I just stood there like a jerk."

Well at least you acknowledge it. To be fair, that must've come as quite a shock, especially after everything that's been going on.

"Hey. Hey, this is a good thing. Something we don't get enough of these days. _Enjoy it_. And when we get back, return the favor. It's not like she's going anywhere." Thank youuu, Rick. The voice of reason in this chaotic life.

I'm so glad you didn't die in that hospital, and instead are here to help rangle runaway members, so I'm not always the one who's gotta do it.

Glenn nodded, looking down at his lap. He doesn't look convinced.

I sighed. You owe me one for this Maggie. "Does being with her make you happy?"

Glenn looked at me; Rick also glancing in the mirror.

"Y— yeah, of course but I—"

"If you're happy, why get in your own way?"

Glenn stared at me, mouth open and moving but no words were came out.

I waited patiently for him to think but after a solid minute, my lip quirked up. New record for how fast I can win an argument. If there's one skill I've been polishing since this group was formed, it's refuting illogical conclusions.

I set my hand on his shoulder, "The only thing worth anything, is the pursuit of your own happiness. If that includes the happiness of someone else, so be it. You never know what'll happen from one moment to the next. Don't squander what you get."

Glenn stared hard at his hands. The sinking of the words is almost tangible.

We finally pulled up in front of a large wooden building. A gritty sign on the side with _Hatlin's_ scrawled across it. The streets look deserted, I don't see a single body on the road, haven't for miles.

This really must've been a small town. There aren't many buildings either, if this is supposed to be downtown. There aren't even that many cars still here.

"Rick, I know about Lori. Her being pregnant." Glenn came clean, as Rick parked and turned off the engine. "I got her those pills."

"I figured." Rick got outta the car, no trace of surprise at all.

Glenn got out, jogging around the front of the car, as I opened my door and slipped out myself.

"Hey, I'm sorry I kept it from you." Glenn shifted the shotgun in his hands, so it was at the ready, just in case.

"Don't be. You did what you thought was right." Rick turned, looking around. "Just so happens it wasn't."

I pulled my knives, doing a sweep as I followed him towards the building; Glenn coming up beside me, doing the same.

Speaking of which. I haven't forgotten about your little escapade you failed to mention earlier. "Pharmacy. Spill."

Glenn's face took a radical change, back to the anxious one he was sporting before on the way here.

"Ah so— a couple days ago, we— Maggie and I, went on a run to get uh— abortion pills."

My jaw dropped so fast it popped.

No way. You told me she was pregnant, you never said you risked your life— and Maggie's for this _._ Good lord, I spend a couple of days away from camp, and I miss everything.

"Is she still?"

Rick glanced down, and my eyes narrowed as I zeroed in on him.

"Well I— I believe so." Glenn looked at Rick too, for what I assume to be confirmation but Rick didn't answer.

Oh no, you don't. You are not getting away from this, Grimes.

I did another sweep, making sure we're still good to talk about this, and whacked his elbow with mine.

He started, looking at me, and I stared him down, lips pursed; Eyebrows raised in expectation.

If you don't give me a straight answer right bloody now, I'mma do a lot more than clack your elbow, Officer.

My thoughts must've appeared on my face, because he caved with a glancing sigh. "Yes. She's still pregnant. As far as we know."

See? That wasn't so hard, was it? Now let's go in and get the good veterinarian, shall we?

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

My knife caught on the edges of the wood stick, pushing a shaving off.

I turned the long stick in my hand. Rolling it over to find any pieces of bark I might'a missed before.

I shifted on the uncomfortable stone I was sitting on, readjusting my leg so I could continue cuttin' down this stick for my new arrows.

"Moving to the suburbs?" Lori's voice came with footsteps to my right, but I didn't bother lookin' up.

"Listen, Beth's in some kind of catatonic shock. We need Hershel."

Yeah I'll bet you do.

"Yeah" I drawled. "So what?"

Lori crouched on my right. "So I need you to run into town real quick and bring him and Rick back."

Tcgh, figures. You people only come lookin' when ya want somethin'.

I turned the wood over in my hand, swiping my knife over it again.

"...Daryl?"

I finally looked at her.

"Your bitch went window-shoppin'. You want him? Fetch 'im yourself." I spat, going back to my arrow. "I got better things to do."

"What's the matter with you? Why would you be so selfish?"

"Selfish?" I stood up. "Listen to me, Olive oyl. I was out there lookin' for that little girl every single day."

"I took a bullet and an arrow in the process— don't you be tellin' me about gettin' my hands dirty!"

She took a step back.

"You want those two idiots? Have a nice ride." I swung my arm towards the road.

"I'm done lookin' for people." I sat back where I was before, turning my attention back to the arrow, and continued shaving it down.

"Eve was out there too, risking her life. She almost died —could have fallin' outta that tree—"

I scoffed. Course that's the only time you would know 'bout. She almost died way more than once, and it wasn't cause a no tree.

"—and she's one of those 'idiots' who still went."

My knife paused right before it was about to dig into the wood once again.

Of course that swamp monster would wind up going to solve a problem that ain't hers. They wouldn't even have to ask 'er to; Probably volunteered 'erself without a second thought.

I didn't say nothin' for more than a minute and she finally gave up, when I shaved another piece off the stick.

I watched her walk away, but before I realized it, I was lookin' at the road.

Getting up, I went over to my brother's motorcycle and grabbed my jacket off it, sliding it on.

It doesn't surprise me Eve went; I should'a seen that comin'.

That woman doesn't know how to say no.

I reached for my crossbow and stopped.

Why's it my problem if she goes out and gets herself into trouble? She's a grown-ass woman.

I growled and turned away, sittin' my ass back down to work on my arrows.

She can make her own decisions. I ain't 'er keeper.


	63. Chapter 60

**Eve's POV**

We stepped through the door of the bar, finding the inside empty except for a lone old man in a white shirt at the bar.

"Who's with you?" Hershel asked without turning, from the bar directly across the room from us at the doors.

"Glenn, and Eve." Rick holstered his weapon.

"Maggie sent 'em?"

Jesus, we're not post cards. And I wouldn't call that sending.

"They volunteered. They're good like that." Rick started towards the bar, carefully checking the room out as he went.

I peeked through the drapes of the window beside the doors, while Glenn followed him farther into the open room.

Several of the table and chairs are pushed off to the side, or knocked over, but I'm surprised there's no shattered glass. Half the stuff in this room is made of it.

"How many you had?" I glanced at Rick leant against the bar next to Hershel.

"Not enough."

I watched a garbage bag blow down the street, not quite able to make out what Rick muttered to Hershel before, "Beth collapsed, must be in some sort a state. Must be in shock. I think you are too."

Wow, descriptive. You should'a been a narrator.

"Maggie's with her?" Hershel completely ignored Rick's concern for him.

"Yeah, but Beth needs you."

"What could I do?" Gee, I don't know. Let me think about that for a moment. You could treat her for shock, you could help each other grieve, you could be there for your child when she needs you—

"She needs her mother. Or rather to mourn. Like she should'a done weeks ago. I robbed her of that. I see that now."

"You thought there was a cure. Can't blame yourself for holdin' out for hope." Rick reasoned.

"Hope?" I heard the barstool shift but glanced and Hershel was still seated. For a second there, I thought things were going well. My mistake.

"When I first saw you runnin' across my field with your boy in your arms. I had little hope he'd survive."

"But he did." Rick countered.

"He did." Hershel confirmed. "Even though we lost Otis, your man Shane made it back, and we saved your boy. That was the miracle that proved to me miracles do exist."

Hmph. I never believed in miracles. Luck, however. That's a different story.

"Only it was a sham. A bait and switch. I was a fool, Rick...and your people saw that. My daughter's deserve better than that."

Yeah… to be fair though, we're probably some of the only people alive who know anything about this infection. All because of Jenner.

We actually saw some of what little research was done before it was destroyed.

I heard Hershel pour himself another drink, and glanced as Rick's boots alerted me to him coming back towards us _post cards_ at the door.

Glenn moved back, glancing outside to make sure we weren't drawing any unwanted attention to ourselves.

"So what do we do, just wait for him to pass out?" Glenn looked between us.

"Could bring the bottles." I murmured, glancing at Hershel before returning my eyes to them.

He's set on drinking, we probably won't get him to stop any time soon. Doesn't mean he has to drink _here._

"Just go!" Hershel raised his voice so we could hear him but the shout didn't have anything other than despair behind it. "Just go"

I sighed heavily, resisting the urge to grind my teeth. We should close the door. We're gonna be here awhile. Longer than I'd like, no doubt. Because that's always the way of things now.

"I promised Maggie I'd bring you home safe." Rick turned back, to head towards the bar.

"Like you promised that little girl?"

I froze.

Silence caved over the bar. My eyes turned slowly, fixing on Hershel's back.

Rick moved before I could; a new intensity eating the silence alive in his wake. "So what's your plan? Finish that bottle? Drink yourself to _death_ and leave your girls alone?"

Hershel stood, knocking his glass over. "Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm."

He turned, coming towards Rick; moving from that stool for the first time since we got here— probably since _he_ got here.

"You people are like a plague!"

Didn't think I'd ever be called that again.

"I do the Christian thing, give you shelter, and you destroy it all!"

"The world was already in bad shape, when we met." Rick stopped right in front of him, but his fist looks like he wants to punch Hershel out.

You won't find me complaining, if he goes through with it. Hershel may be old, and he may be grieving but that doesn't give you a free pass to say whatever the Hell you want and expect to get away with it.

I clicked my tongue and made my way behind the long L shaped bar.

"And you take no responsibility. You're supposed to be their leader!" Hershel accused, shaking with anger.

"Well I'm here now! Aren't I?" Rick shouted.

"Yes." Hershel nodded, his aggression melting back to his numbed state before.

"Yes. Yes, you are." he went back to his barstool, taking another drink from what's left in his glass.

I came around the back corner of the space behind the counter, spying another door back here. Almost a straight shot out of this end of the bar. This place didn't look that big from the outside, but it looks like there's a staircase right there, goin' down.

If there were any walkers that were gonna come up, they'd have done it by now. We haven't exactly been quiet, and I haven't heard so much as an out of place scratch, from outside this room.

I'll keep my eyes on it for now, but if we're here for more than half an hour, I'll go check it out. For peace of mind sake.

However, we're not staying for more than an hour. Tops.

If the time comes, I will knock Hershel's ass out myself. He can be as mad as he likes when he wakes up, _at the farm_.

"Now come on. Your girls need you now, more than ever." Rick grabbed Hershel's arm to pull him up, and Hershel swung it back, out of his grip.

"I didn't want to believe you. You told me there was no cure. That these people were dead, not sick. I _chose_ not to believe that."

I couldn't help another sigh.

A part of me had hoped Hershel would be another voice of reason but apparently age does not always bring wisdom.

I didn't expect much when we first met, but I didn't expect to be babysitting him too.

"But when Shane shot Lou in the chest and she just kept comin'. That's when I knew what an ass I'd been."

I scrubbed a hand over my forehead.

I don't have the energy for this drama right now.

Hershel can throw his tantrum, Rick can talk to him, but sooner or later I'll drag all our asses back home. Kickin' and screamin' if necessary.

Rick shifted, to his stance he takes when he's ready to listen and possibly argue with someone. One hand hanging near his gun, the other on his hip.

"That Annette had been dead, _looong_ ago and I was _feeding her rotten corpse!_ "

"And when that little girl came outta the barn… The look on your face—… I knew you knew it to. Right?"

Silence fell again. I glanced at Rick, but he doesn't look like he's got anything to say to that. Glenn looks uneasy. I can't let him take Hershel's drunk slurs too seriously. I might need to talk to him later, make sure he's okay.

"There is no hope."

Of course there isn't if you're clinging to the past! To the way things _were_ _._

"And you know it now, like I do. Don't you?"

Rick was silent. Glenn glanced at me, and I pursed my lips.

It's hard to differentiate rational thought from clouded emotion in others on a normal day, nevermind from someone who's plastered and wallowing in despair.

"There is no hope, for any of us."

You know what, Hershel?

Hope all you like. The way most people use it is a waste of time and effort.

The harsh reality is, hope is useful for _one_ thing and one thing alone. Spurring yourself through a task you _know_ has a high chance of failure.

"Look I'm done. Cleaning up after you— you know what the truth is? _Nothing has changed_." Rick leaned on the bar once again, so Hershel would look at him.

Glenn came farther into the room, standing just behind Rick.

"Death is death. It's always been there. Whether it's from a heart attack, cancer, or a walker. What's the difference? You didn't think it was hopeless before, did you?"

 _Thank you_. Can we please, finally _get_ somewhere with this stubborn old man.

"Now there are people back at home trying to hang on. They _need_ us, even if it's just to give 'em a reason to go on. _Even if we don't believe it ourselves._ " Rick took a pace, running his hand over his mouth and beard.

"You know what? This— this isn't about what we believe anymore. It's about them." Rick gestured towards the door.

Something moved outside the window, and my hand went to my knife, as I stepped to the left so I could see around Hershel on the other side of the counter; angling my shoulders as I did in case I needed to act fast.

Hershel finished his drink, putting the glass rim down on the bench before he stood up.

The door opened and my knife was in my grip as everyone else turned to the two men who just stepped inside.

"Son of a bitch. They're alive." The skinnier man in front turned to the larger one behind him.

 _Lovely_. God can we not just— catch a bloody break for _once? One_ break, is that too much to ask!?


	64. Chapter 61

"I'm Dave." the smaller man, took up a seat at the closest table.

I poured a row of drinks into semi-clean glasses(cleanest I could find), and slid them down the bar, towards Glenn at the end; who had moved behind the counter with me.

"That scrawny lookin' douchebag there is Tony." 'Dave' smiled at his heavier friend.

The larger _Tony_ sat at the bar laughed, "Eat me, Dave."

"Hey, maybe someday I will." Dave quipped as Rick set one of the drinks he took from the bar next to the man.

"We met on I-95 comin' outta Phili. Damn shit show that was."

"I'm Glenn. It's nice to meet some new people." Glenn gave the same friendly smile he had when we first met on the stairs of my building, to the man.

"Rick Grimes" Rick introduced himself, taking another glass off the bar and passing it to Tony.

"What about you, pal? Have one?" Dave addressed Hershel.

"I just quit." the slowly sobering Hershel answered.

"You've got a unique sense of timing, my friend." Dave smiled.

"His name's Hershel." Rick sat on a barstool, just over the counter from Glenn. "He lost people today, a lot of 'em."

Dave's expression fell from it's —little too friendly— smile, into a more solemn downcast. "I'm truly sorry to hear that."

He raised his glass towards us. "To better days and new friends. And to our dead— ...may they be in a better place."

I watched him tap the bottom of the glass on the table before downing his shot, and the others following suit; minus the table tap.

Dave's eyes settled on me as he set his empty glass on the table. "And you? What's your name?"

I wonder how long he can stand silence...

I blankly stared him down, and not even 3 seconds in, he began to look to the others for explanation.

"That's Eve." Rick answered in my sted, turning slightly.

Go— dammit, Rick. You've ruined my analysis.

"She doesn't talk much." Glenn wrapped his knuckles on the bar in a knocking motion, sparing a glance at me; which I returned outta the corner of my eye.

"...Any, particular reason for that?" Dave treaded carefully.

Glenn and Hershel both looked at me, and I could see Rick's eyelashes in the sunlight from the side of his face, as he blinked.

It occurs to me, none of them actually know the answer to that. Only person I can recall ever telling, is Daryl.

I thought for a second, taking my new opportunity to stare Dave down, when Rick actually _can't_ intervene.

He got uncomfortable fast(judging by his shift and foot tap), and reached across his table; forgoing the answer to his question. "You don't have to say. I get it. Some things are personal."

My hand grabbed the knife at my side as soon as I caught sight of a black handle in the back of his waistband.

Rick tensed as well, and Dave seemed to notice as he looked back.

"Not bad, huh?" he reached around and pulled the gun out by the barrel, showing it to us. If that motion had me get ready to throw my knife a moment's notice, that's my business.

Rick's tension dropped but mine didn't. The safety's not on.

"I got it off a cop." Dave looked at the standard issue 9 mill in his hand.

"I'm a cop." I noticed Rick's shoulders become unnaturally still; posture a little too settled for my peace of mind.

"This one was already dead." Dave flashed another charismatic smile and little alarms began to go off in the back of my head.

"You fellas are a long way from Philadelphia." Rick took a sip of his drink.

"It feels like we're a long way from anywhere." Dave stretched, his voice a little louder than I'd like.

I glanced at the doorways of the room, watching for a moment, trying to listen over their talking.

"Well what drove you south?" Rick rested his glass on his knee.

"Well I can tell you it wasn't the weather." Dave rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. "I must've dropped 30 lbs in sweat alone down here."

"Yeah, I wish." Tony interjected from the bar. I took notice of how his shotgun is balance on his thigh. Barrel down, but he could still bring that up quick if he had to.

"No, first it was D.C. heard there might be some kinda refugee camp, but the roads are so jammed we never even got close. We decided to get off the highways, into the sticks, keep hauling ass. Every group we came across had a new rumor about a way out of this thing." Dave went on, explaining with the occasional hand gesture how they ended up down here.

That doesn't surprise me. When the outbreak happened, it was a mad scramble to get as far as you could, to wherever you thought it would be safest.

"One guy told us there was a coast guard sittin' down in the gulf, sendin' ferries to the islands." Tony spoke up.

That's not a bad idea actually. There would have to be extensive screenings for scratches, bites— probably a waiting period of a day or so too, to prevent accidentally letting in someone who's infected.

Assuming of course, the islands are already walker free. That would be a big area to keep under control too. It would need to be self-sustaining as well; its own food production, renewable water sources, fuel, power, etc. And the population it could handle would be severely limited.

"Latest was a railyard in Montgomery runnin' trains to the middle of the country— Kansas, Nebraska."

"Nebraska?" Glenn glanced at me, confused.

"Low population, lots of guns." Tony answered

"Kinda makes sense." Glenn nodded, directing his eyes to the bar by his hands, pulling a face.

"Ever been to Nebraska, kid?" Dave looked at him. "A reason they call 'em flyover states."

Tony laughed, but it wasn't more than a high pitched breathy whistle to be honest.

The kind you typically hear from people with a history of smoking, and judging by the smoke stashed over his ear, he's exactly that.

Rick took another sip of his drink but as he tilted his head back, I could see he found it humorous.

I glanced at Hershel who also had a small amused smile, and caught sight of Tony past him.

My eyes narrowed the slightest at the sly look he was sending Dave as he scratched the side of his head.

I glanced at his friend just as the man looked up from his lap, with another disarming smile, "How about you guys?"

"Fort Benning, eventually." Rick answered after a moment's hesitation, glancing between the two.

"I hate to piss in your cornflakes, Officer, but um...we ran across a grunt who was stationed at Benning." Dave motioned between himself and Tony. "Said the place was overrun by lamebrains."

"Wait, For Benning is gone? Are you for real?" Glenn looked between them, disbelief all but screaming from every inch of him.

"Sadly, I am." Dave nodded. "Ugly truth is, there is no way outta this mess." You're just figuring this out, now? "Just keep goin' from one pipe dream to the next, prayin' one a these mindless freaks doesn't grab ahold of ya when you sleep."

"If you sleep." Tony corrected.

"Yeah it doesn't look like you guys are hangin' yer hats here." Dave cast a quick glance at the door, and subsequently the rest of the room.

"You— you holed up somewhere else?"

A switch flipped in my head, as I zeroed in on him. It's the same switch that goes off on a first date and their already asking if your place is close by.

I've met people like him before. Charismatic, a little too friendly, ask a lot of invasive questions but make it sound like they're just havin' a friendly conversation.

Dave may be passable at disguising his intent, but Tony isn't.

He keeps glancing at Dave. He's been letting Dave do the talking since the moment they walked in, and judging by their interactions, Tony's not usually this quiet. I would know.

I can see his lips twitch or press into a tight line every so often; a tick only people who like the sound of their own voice have, when they're trying not to use it.

"Not really." Rick shook his head, and as soon as I heard the change of tone in his voice, I knew he's picked up on something too.

I don't know if it's the same things I have, but I imagine in Rick's previous line of work, smooth talkers were not uncommon.

I might live to see the day someone can smooth talk Rick, but today is not that day. From what I've seen, since I met this man, he's the king of that court. For one thing, he can talk _Shane_ down, and Daryl more and more as of late.

"Those your cars out front?" Dave glanced over his shoulder. Why is that relevant? What is he looking for?

"Yeah. Why?" Glenn spoke before I could stop him.

"Well we're livin' outta ours. Those look uh...kinda empty, clean. Where's all your gear?" Dave rubbed his palms on his jeans.

"We're with a larger group. Out scouting, thought we could use a drink." Hershel answered; he still sounds sluggish though.

"A drink? Hershel I thought you quit." Dave made it sound joking, but he knows something's up. And the silence he was met with at that "joke", probably just confirmed it for him.

"Well, we're thinking of setting up around here. Is it— is it safe?"

"It can be, although I've uh..." Glenn hesitated mid-sentence, when both Rick and Hershel turned to look at him. "Killed a couple walkers round here."

"Walkers? That what you call 'em?" Dave looked at Rick, who turned his attention back to him, after taking the opportunity to glance at me.

That look, that's all I need, to know we're on the same page about these two.

"Yeah" Glenn chuckled.

I subtly tapped Glenn's leg with my foot, as soon as Dave's attention was elsewhere.

He looked at me and I carefully shook my head; not moving it more than an inch at most.

He glanced at Dave again, then back at me, something registering in his visage before he clamped his jaw and nodded.

"That's good. I like that. I like that better than lamebrains." Dave scratched his neck, pulling the back of shirt away from his neck.

"More succinct." Tony nodded.

"Okay, Tony went to college." Dave motioned to his friend.

"Two years." Tony sounded almost offended by that, and glanced at us.

I noticed Glenn's unnatural smile, bearing his teeth a little too much.

"So what, so what you guys set up on the outskirts or somethin? That new development?" Dave jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.

He's fishing. I watched his eyes roaming over our postures. He's looking for body language cues.

"Trailer park or somethin?" Tony stood up, heading straight across from his stool at the bar, to the wall. "Farm?"

"Old McDonald had a farm~" Dave absently sung, as he watched his friend.

These guys are not good at hiding their intent. Their skill is low-key ametur criminal at best, but even an amatuer is dangerous to someone who doesn't recognize what they're doing.

Rick has definitely pegged what's going on by now. Hershel looks like he's been around this block before, judging by his near-identical reaction with Rick just now.

I can't say for certain where I fall on this scale of experience without knowing Hershel and Rick's lives from before, but I've seen my fair share.

I grew up surrounded by budding con-artists, thieves, criminals of all natures. Hell— I was one of 'em for a time back then.

Glenn on the other hand. I'm sorry, Ace but you can barely lie without laughing, or having a nerves spasm.

You'd more likely fall for tricks like this because unlike me, or even Rick, you're trusting. You might be the only person in this room who was well-adjusted.

"You on a farm?" Dave looked at Rick.

Rick didn't answer but as soon as there was a pattering noise, we both looked over and my nose wrinkled in disgust at Tony taking a leak on the wall.

"Is it safe?" Tony asked.

"It's gotta be." Dave answered, leaning forward now; focusing his attention on Rick. "You got food, water?"

"You got cooze? I ain't had a piece a ass in weeks." Tony looked over his shoulder, directly at me, and I rolled my eyes; unable to keep the muscle in my face from twitching.

Glenn cleared his throat, nervously glancing at me.

"Listen, pardon my friend." Dave rubbed his eyes again; out of frustration this time. "City kids— they got no tact."

"No disrespect." Dave looked at me, and I saw the slight flinch in his arms as my eyes pierced his; his pressing into the chair a little bit

He's not entirely stupid.

"So listen, Glenn—"

"We've said enough." Rick cut Dave off.

Glenn shifted next to me, and I took the opportunity to huff and move down the bar; pretending to offended while I got the other side, where I have a clear line of sight to the both of these assholes.

"Well, hang on a second. This farm— it sounds pretty sweet. Don't it sound sweet, Tony?" Dave didn't even notice my moving.

"Yeah, real sweet." Tony answered, finishing up his business and turned around. He's got that nice shotgun over his shoulder by the strap. He can't pull that before I take him down.

"How about a little southern hospitality?" Dave's attention is focused on Rick. "We got some buddies back at camp, been havin' a real hard time."

"I don't see why you can't make room for a few more. We can pool our resources, our manpower." He's getting desperate.

That would be a nice offer, actually. If it were sincere. Having more bodies to help out isn't a bad thing, but even if this was a real thing, I wouldn't be okay with letting just anyone join our group.

"Look, I'm sorry. That's not an option." Rick flat out refused.

That took the both of them by surprise. The look on Tony's face says it all, as he looked to Dave, and Dave glanced at his fingers; they didn't expect us not to bite.

"Doesn't sound like it'd be a problem." Dave tried again.

"I'm sorry. We can't." Hershel spoke up. He sounds a little more sober now, but not as much as I'd like.

"We can't take in any more." Rick stood his ground.

Dave chuckled, rubbing his temple with his forefinger. "You guys are somethin' else."

"I thought— I thought we were friends." He's running out of options; I recognize that scramble. "We got people we gotta look out for too."

"We don't know anything about you." Rick shrugged.

"No, that's true." Dave shifted in his chair. "You don't know anything about us."

Dave's eyes locked on Rick. "You don't know what we've had to go through out there. The things we've had to do."

Is that a threat. My hand crept around to my gun, carefully turning the safety off.

"I bet you've had to do some of those same things yourself. Am I right?" he eyed Rick, and while his tone wasn't aggressive, the hardest to his features reminds me all too much of a certain off-the-rails cop back at camp.

Rick remained silent, but I can see his set jaw from here.

"Cause ain't nobody's hands clean in what's left of this world." Dave continued. "We're all the same."

Whether our hands are clean or not, we are not the same.

"So come on, let's— let's take a nice friendly hayride to this farm and we'll get to know each other." You really don't give up do you?

If these two knew what was good for them, they'd walk away, right now.

Rick moved his arm out, wide; almost like a shrug but in the form of a gesture. "That's not gonna happen."

"Rick—" Dave started but was cut off by Tony.

"This is bullshit."

"Calm down." Rick

"Don't tell me to calm down. Don't _eva_ tell me to calm down."

"Whoa" Glenn tried

"I'll shoot you 4 assholes and _take_ your damn farm!"

I pulled my gun, but stopped myself from raising it as Rick stood, moving into my line of sight from Tony. I don't think he meant to but it still happened and I lowered the barrel below the bar before it could be noticed.

" _Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa._ " Dave jumped up, defusing the situation before it escalated further. "Relax."

"Take it easy. Nobody's killin' anybody." Dave clapped Rick's shoulder in a friendly manner, but Rick still looked at him as he came towards me.

I moved like a repelled magnet to the corner of the bend, as Dave climbed over the bar.

I saw Tony grab his gun behind him, and Rick heard it too from his stance as he stopped moving to keep his eyes on Dave.

"Look." Dave put his out, taking his gun and didn't realise I was already aiming at him from over here where Tony can't see me, as he carefully set his gun on the bar.

"We're just friends havin' a drink. That's all."

To some that might look like a gesture of good will, but I can't help but notice the barrel is pointed towards Rick; at an easy to grab angle.

If he's willing to do that, he must be confident in his ability to grab and shoot before Rick can.

Too bad he's forgotten to look to his right.

"Now" Dave held his arms wide. "Where's the good stuff, huh?"

"Good stuff, good stuff, good stuff. Let's see." He ducked his head below the bar, and I saw the shotgun under the counter.

However when I saw Dave reaching for it, I tapped my foot on the wooden floor and his eyes flickered to me from below the counter.

The flicker of fear I saw surge through his eyes, tensing every muscle in his body, hardened my steeling glare.

He slowly grabbed the bottle next to the gun, instead. His eyes turned to Rick, as Rick's hand was on his own gun, before he pulled the bottle up from behind the counter.

"Ey, look at that." Dave held the bottle up with a smile. "That'll work."

He inhaled deeply, grabbing a few glasses from the top of the counter. "You gotta understand— we can't stay out there. You know what It's like."

I glanced at Tony behind Rick, who still has his hand on his gun and my gut stirred me to move.

Rick's got Dave covered, I've seen how fast he can pull that piece and I'd be hard pressed to see Dave outdraw him. But I don't like the look of Tony at his back.

"Yeah, I do." Rick nodded. "But the farm is too crowded as is. I'm sorry. You'll have to keep looking."

"Keep looking. Where do you suggest we do that?" Dave shifted, resting both hands on the countertop.

I crept past Glenn, careful to be slow and smooth in my movements so I didn't draw attention to myself.

Thankfully Tony's like Merle, and his attention is fixed on Rick. I know exactly how to go unnoticed by people like him.

I reached the end of the bar getting a direct line of sight, without being noticed.

"I don't know." Rick shook his head, shrugging. "I hear Nebraska's nice."

Dave laughed but there was an undertone of malice as he shifted. "Nebraska. This guy."

I heard the shot without seeing who shot first, but before Tony could react, I put one round in the soft tissue of his side; right where his kidney should be.

He fell backwards into the wall, shotgun going off into the ceiling before I saw another shot go through his chest.

Tony sank to the floor and Rick stepped towards him, putting one final round in his forehead.

I glanced around, just noticing how dark it's gotten.

I moved towards Rick, to see better in the dark and looked over everyone, making sure they're alright. Glenn and Hershel both look startled as Hell, but unharmed.

I noticed blood splatter on the mirror/wall behind the bar where Dave had been, but looked back when Tony's body sank to the floor; hand landing in his own piss.

I get why Rick shot him again, even after I already did. But when Tony was already down… that was overkill. And that's one Hell of a slippery slope you're walkin' right there, Officer.


	65. Chapter 62

Meeting Rick's gaze, I sighed through my nose; trying not to judge or knit-pick his reasons for doing what he did.

What's done is done. There's nothing we can do about it.

He was bound to snap somehow, sooner or later. And I think we've both known that for awhile now.

Rick stowed his Python as Glenn and Hershel came over.

"Holy shit" Glenn's spooked voice came from my left, as he stared at Tony's body.

"You all right?" Rick looked at him.

Glenn shifted on his feet, looking at Rick and breathed, "...Yeah"

Rick nodded. "Hershel?"

Hershel didn't answer, just looked between the places the bodies lie before giving Rick a long stare.

"Eve?" the officer turned to me.

I gave a solid nod, stowing my weapon.

Rick looked between us all. Glenn shifted his shotgun so it was ready to be raised and fire if need be. I pulled a blade, myself, just in case.

Hershel looks leaps and bounds more sober than a few moments ago; the adrenaline is probably to thank.

It's already dark out; we need to get back before people at camp start jumping to conclusions and run around like headless chickens.

I made my way to the bar, climbing over and dropped down just in front a Dave's body. I grabbed the piece he was flashing from the floor and rose to my full height again, checking the clip.

He didn't take real good care of it, but the clips more than half full, and it's clean enough. I'll take it.

These two brought this outcome on themselves, only thing I can't figure out is why.

Why were they so keen to find out where we're setup? I doubt they wanted to be allies, or actually join up with us. So what were they planning to do if they got what they wanted?

"Let's head back." Hershel broke me from my thoughts.

I looked over, giving a nod before heading to the end of the bar.

A stream of light moved over the room with the sound of an engine.

I ducked, keeping my head down as I came out the end of the bar. I took cover beside Rick at the doors, just under the window and moved the curtain the slightest bit.

The doors of a pickup outside opened and 3 armed men emerged, looking around.

Dammit, I was afraid something like this would happen.

"What do we do?" Glenn whispered.

I looked to Rick and watched the gears turn in his head as he watched out the gap my fingers held open.

"Doesn't look like they know we're here. Our best bet is to wait till they leave." he glanced over his shoulder and Glenn nodded.

Patient approach. Good call, Officer. Glad to see you haven't lost your head. Yet.

* * *

"Why won't they leave?" Glenn whispered

"Would you?" Hershel whispered, as I handed him Dave's gun; taking out my own.

I nudged Rick, pointing to the side room.

"We can't sit here any longer. Let's head out the back and make a run to the car." Rick whispered the plan.

I moved to go, and not a second passed before gunshots echoed outside and our backs were against the wall again.

I looked at Glenn and Hershel on the opposite side of the doors from Rick and I and put my finger to my lips.

Rick glanced at me and I peeked through the hideous curtains.

My sight set on 3 men outside.

"I cleared those buildings. You guys get this one?" the man who seems to be the one in charge, motioned at the bar.

"No" one man shook his head

"Me neither" the youngest of the three shook his head.

I froze when his eyes landed on the window and they headed this way.

"We're lookin' for Dave and Tony and no one checks the damn bar?"

 _Shit_

Footsteps pounded on the wood deck outside, and panic raced through me as they got closer.

Glenn & I had the same idea as the door started to open and we both threw ourselves against it, pushing it shut with our backs.

"What—?"

"Someone pushed that shut. There's someone in there"

I looked to Glenn at my shoulder, both of us breathing heavily and chewing our lips. Great minds think alike, and apparently develop the same habits.

"Yo, is someone in there? We don't want no trouble, we're just looking for our friends."

Oh yeah, like those two didn't want any trouble either?

"What do we do?"

"Bum rush the door?" I don't think they realize we can hear them.

"No, we don't know how many are there. Just relax."

Glenn looked at me and I put my finger to my lips as I moved and turned around.

I glanced at Hershel, whose staring with saucer eyes straight across me at Rick.

One look at Rick told me he didn't know what to do either, he's still working it out in his head.

"We don't want any trouble." the man outside spoke louder and I tensed; alarms going off in my head about the volume. "We're just looking for our friends. If something happened, tell us."

'Yeah sorry, we kinda shot them because they were nosy pricks who couldn't take no for an answer'. That'd go over well.

"This place is crawling with corpses. If you could help us not get killed, I'd appreciate it."

Maybe if you'd shut the Hell up, you won't have to worry about it.

"Dude, you're buggin'. I'm tellin' you nobody's in there."

Listen to your friend. _Walk away_.

"Someone guard the door. If they're in there, they might know where Dave & Tony are."

"They drew on us!" Rick called

Shit sprinkles in soy sauce. My eyes shot at him; so wide they stung.

Hershel groaned under his breath, and I spared a glance at him; his expression almost identical to my own.

We should've gone out the back and left them to talk to the door like nubs.

"They alive?"

Oh god, please don't.

"No"

 _OH yes,_ tell them we murdered their close friends, because that'll help us get outta here alive.

Mutters erupted outside, and all I caught was 'they killed' and arguing about leaving before the main speaker's voice cut the others off, "I'm not telling Jane. I'm not gonna go back and tell them Dave & Tony got shot by some assholes in a bar."

"Your friends drew on us!" Rick defended. "They gave us no choice!"

 _What the HELL are you doing!?_ They know we can hear them now!

Oh my god— _I am never letting you drink again!_ You become the world's biggest _dumbass_!

"I'm sure we've all lost enough people. Done things we—…we wish we didn't have to, but it's like that now. _You know that._ "

You better have some masterful plan in mind to get us out of here, or so help me Davy Jones, _I_ will be your biggest problem.

"So let's just chalk this up to what it was. Wrong place, wrong—"

The door window shattered above my head, raining glass over me.

Glenn and I both fell to the side, arms coming up to protect our heads.

Rick returned fire shouting, "Get outta here! Go!"

Glenn grabbed my arm, pulling me up as he ran after Hershel who was already moving; running for the doorway on the other side.

He let go when a bullet flew past us, and slid under a table next to the wall.

I dropped behind an overturned table near the middle and watched a bullet hit the frame right by Hershel's head as he made it and took cover himself.

I pulled my piece, and as Rick sunk down, taking cover right by the door again, I came up and fired 3 shots outside; giving Hershel enough time to slide a shotgun across the floor to Glenn.

"Hey! We all know this is not gonna end well!" Rick shouted, as he gathered up the casings from his python and dropped them in his breast pocket, pulling more from his pocket and reloading. "There's nothing in it for any of us."

I glanced from Hershel, to Glenn, to Rick, to Tony's body on the ground, and the blood splatter behind the counter, to the shattered windows at the entrance.

My skin prickled, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. It's too quiet.

I whipped around at the sound of something behind knocked over behind the building; it sounded like a metal trash bin.

I locked eyes with Glenn before looking to Rick. He looked at Glenn & I and jerked his head towards that back door. The one tucked in the back corner I hadn't seen before now.

Glenn moved forward and I joined him, keeping low as we made our way to the door.

I covered him as he peeled the door open a few inches, sticking the barrel of his shotgun through first, before looking around.

He crept in, and the old wood stairs creaked as he did so. I came into what looks like a cellar for storing alcohol behind him, stepping on the edges of the steps closest to the railing so they didn't squeak.

Glenn moved through the room and I followed, setting my sights on a set of double doors off to the right.

That's gotta lead outside, I can—

I raised my gun when a shadow moved across the window on the door. What is with this bar and windows in the doors?

Glenn raised his shotgun and the doorknob began to twist.

He fired before I did and the shotgun blast shattered the left window.

Silence followed, and I waited before moving forward. I didn't hear anything hit the ground, nor any sounds of pain.

I don't think we hit whoever was opening that door.


	66. Chapter 63

**Daryl's POV**

The Hell are those idiots doin'? Drivin' to Las Vegas?

I looked at the road again, stabbing my fire with a long branch.

How long's it take to drag one old fart back to his precious farm?

"We can't find Lori."

I glanced to my side as Carol came runnin' up, outta breath.

Hmph, figures. I resisted the urge to scoff and turned back at my fire.

"And the others aren't back yet either."

"Yeah" I jabbed the stick farther under a log, trying to shift it deeper into the fire. "Dumb bitch must've gone off lookin' for 'em."

"What?" Carol panted.

"Yeah, she asked me to go. Told 'er I was done bein' an errand boy." I shifted my knee higher under my elbow.

"And you didn't say anything?" Carol's voice rose an octave.

I stabbed the fire again, waiting for her to say more, to see how she chews me out for it, but the silence dragged on.

My eyes dropped to my lap after a solid minute and she hadn't said a word, but I can feel 'er starin' at me.

She started walking away but stopped and came back. "Don't do this. Please."

Do what?

"I've already lost my girl."

I stood, gettin' right in her face. "Yeah, that wasn't my problem neither."

I threw the stick to the ground, stomping to my tent. Apparently movin' my campsite a quarter of a mile away from theirs ain't far enough to get these people off my back.

They're more troublesome than the swamp monster 'erself.

Just cause _she's_ always gotta help when someone so's much as needs a hand wipin' their ass, doesn't mean I gotta.

I ducked inside the fabric hut.

Why they all so worried, anyway? Eve went with those assholes. They'll be fine.

That women may be the biggest trouble magnet I ever met, but she'll make sure they get back. Even if she's gotta drag 'em.

It's amazin' she's even made it this far in one piece, she'd take a bullet for anyone.

I froze. My fingers lingered on the inside zipper of my tent.

" _The others aren't back yet either."_

...

"She can take care of 'erself. I ain't 'er babysitter." I growled under my breath, yanking the zipper down to close.

I laid down, putting my arm behind my head and closed my eyes.

' _My hold on Eve's forearm slid to her wrist and her foot slipped. Her chest slammed against the root my foot was braced against, and she gasped; all of the air being forced from her lungs._

 _Hoarse coughs erupted from her throat at the impact, and she began to slide down._

 _Her arm started slipping out of my grip, and her hand gripped my arm live a vice but she was still sliding.'_

I groaned, turning on my side. It ain't my job to get her outta trouble.

" _Thought I said I wouldn't come save ur ass" I panted, glancing over the muddy raised root, into the 20 foot sinkhole._

The Hell does that have to do with anything now? She got 'erself into that mess, I had to drag her out.

Doesn't mean I'mma do it again. If they're stupid enough to get themselves killed, so be it.

I turned back over, pulling my knee up and laid my arm over my eyes.

' _I watched Eve look around from the branches above, and point in the direction we need to go._

 _I looked, finding a landmark to follow before nodding. I motioned for her to come down and jerked my head for the other's to follow me._

 _A gunshot rang out and I whipped around._

 _The tree shook and my attention shot to the black shape. Every muscle in my body tensed as the branch broke._

" _Eve!" I was running before I knew it; eyes fixed on her dropping like a stone in water._

 _The sound when her back hit the ground, pulled my gut into my throat and sucked the air straight outta my chest.'_

I sighed, letting my arm slide from my eyes. I ain't gettin' any sleep, if this keeps up.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

"Glenn! Eve!" Rick's voice came from the main floor up the stairs behind us.

"W—We're alright. We're alright." Glenn called back to the other room.

I moved at an angle towards the door, gun raised. We didn't hit anyone, which means they could be waiting for us out there now.

I got close enough to the door to see into the alleyway. That is not a lot of space to work with. It's maybe 20 feet wide. There are some dumpsters not too far off the right.

I don't see anyone out there, not even any blood. So I was right, we didn't hit them. They could be behind those dumpsters, or they could've run back down the alley.

I exhaled through my nose, gritting my teeth.

We've gotta risk it. We don't have a choice, unless we'd rather stay here, trapped like rats until all this gunfire attracts every walker for miles right to the doorstep.

We're already pushing it, and look what happened last time we overstayed our welcome.

I saw Hershel coming up behind me in a reflection and turned but as soon as I did, he stepped on a creaky floorboard and Glenn whirled around gun first.

My heart lurched in my chest for a moment I was afraid Glenn was gonna pull the trigger; as Hershel put his hands up but Glenn relaxed. Thank goodness he doesn't shoot first, ask questions later.

Hershel carefully pushed the barrel away from him, aiming it at the floor to his left, away from all of us.

"Rick wants you to try for the car."

Glenn & I exchanged looks before looking at Hershel.

"Try?" Glenn's incredulous tone speaks well enough for the both of us.

"You'll try, and succeed." Hershel nodded pointedly. "I'll cover you."

A old drunk man with a loaded weapon watchin' our backs. Oh this is gonna end well. Lovely.

"That's a great plan" Glenn's sarcasm was undercut by his shook tone.

I sighed, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose, and tapped Glenn's arm.

On a better day, I'd argue for a more sound strategy but we don't have the time, the resources, or another choice right now.

I gave Ace a look we both know all too well at this point, the look of, 'Let's just get this over with'.

He exhaled, puffing out his cheeks and nodded.

Someday, me & him won't be the only ones sticking our necks out anytime somethin' ridiculously dangerous needs gettin' done.

We'll be pulled back to the last line of defense, to be whipped out for only really important moves that require speed, fast reflexes, stealth, an instinct to run, and a quick clever mind.

I'm just holding out for that day.

Alright, enough whining. It's go time.

I went to the doors and as soon as Glenn pushed them open, I peeked out, scanning both directions.

This alley isn't big but it ain't small. It's maybe 40-50 feet to either end. 10-12 feet across, and the opposite side to the building is protected by a high sheet metal fencing of some sort.

Nothin' jumps out at me right off the bat, aside from some possible cover about 20-25 feet to the right.

Whoever was back here could be hiding behind those dumpsters.

I nudged Glenn on my right and nodded to the bins. He looked, and took as steady a breath as he'll manage right now, raising his shotgun.

One slow step at a time, he crept into the alleyway. I stepped out just after, gun raised and watching the left end behind us. While Hershel covered us from the doors.

I followed down the filthy paved alley, keeping my step light, and glancing over my shoulder every so often so I don't walk into Glenn, or get left behind.

It's too quiet. I don't hear any gunfire, not even from the front of the bar where Rick should be.

My eyes scanned the trees and bushes, and various hiding places at the end of the alley, watching for the slightest peak of a gunbarrel, person acquiring their targets, or the most concerning: walkers.

Dealing with walkers on top of these assholes would not go down well; other than using them as meat shields against a hail of gunfire, and possibly scaring the enemy into fleeing.

This reminds me of Atlanta; tryna get that damn bag a guns. Only we don't have a safety net waitin' in some alley with a crossbow ready, this time.

If only Daryl were here.

We could really use his eyes, and another stealth killer right about now.

We neared the dumpsters and I glanced away for half a second; Half a second too soon.

Pain exploded in my shoulder as the shot rang out, and I was spinning towards the ground before my brain even caught up to what was happening.


	67. Chapter 64

Out of instinct, my hands shot out to absorb as much impact as possible but the moment my palms made contact, my right shoulder seared with pain and it buckled.

My stomach hit the ground with the full force of my bodyweight, the air escaping my lungs like a popped balloon.

I had a rush of deja vu, feeling the repercussions from my tumble from the tree whiplash back to the surface.

I couldn't breathe for the longest minute of my life; feeling my ribs burning with ache, like they had then.

Another shot ring out and my immediate instinct was to freeze. To stay as still as possible, even though my entire torso wants me to curl in on myself and craddle my ribcage on the ground of a dirty alleyway like a child.

I can't get to cover like this before I get shot again, this time fatally.

My eyes locked with Glenn's behind the dumpster and before he could move I curled all but one of my fingers on the ground next to my head.

Hissing, "Stay." as subtle as I could manage.

He bit his lips, swallowing with a tense nod. He looks like he wants nothing more than to jump out and grab me, but that will get him _killed._

My gun is still in hand, if they come investigate their "kill" I can pop 'em before they notice. If they think one or both of us are dead, it'll be easier to catch them off guard.

The blood is thrumming in my ears, and the pain is making it difficult to concentrate around my breathing, but I can hear moaning. It doesn't sound like walker moans, but I can't tell who it is; please for the love of polka dot sprinkles, don't be Hershel. If both of us got hit, we're in serious trouble.

I heard the door creak, and my grip tightened on my piece. My core muscles tightened, getting ready to fling myself over at a moment's notice. The pain intensified around the muscles but the adrenaline flooding my system pushed it to the background just enough.

" _You hit?_ " Rick's voice, made me flinch and I almost went through with my plan to shoot whoever came to investigate.

My jolt made my shoulder sear, bringing it back to the foreground of my attention.

Finally nodding in response. I ground my teeth as I peeked over my shoulder, watching the deputy move along the wall; two guns aimed in both directions.

I'm glad he grabbed Tony's shotgun, but firing that beast with one hand is gonna send it kicking back into your skull. Knocking yourself out is the last thing we need right now.

"Are you hit?" Rick came closer, trying to see behind the dumpster where Glenn is sitting.

"No. No." Glenn shook his head, eyes fixed on me but not my face.

I followed his line of sight to the blood on the blood pooling on the ground underneath my shoulder.

Rick crouched beside me, and I felt his hands on my sides, helping as I forced myself to my knees.

Rick pulled me towards the dumpster but I could only crawl on one arm, my gun clacking against the pavement as we took cover.

I sat next to Glenn, dropping the deadly weight in my lap; focusing more effort on my breathing than anything else.

I pulled my shoulder in front of me, trying to look through my torn jacket to find out how bad it was. Even in the dark I can see it. I don't know if that should worry me more or not but for now, I don't care.

Blood pulsed from the centimeter deep impacted gash in the outer side of my shoulder. The flesh splayed outwards from the path of the bullet, a dark red. Some of it almost black.

My entire shoulder inflamed, blazing an angry red and the throb pulsed like a concert speaker with the bass at max volume.

I gripped my elbow, gritting my teeth. I can feel the blood streaming down my arm under my sleeve.

"How bad?"

I looked at Rick and mustered an ok sign, taking my gun from my lap. I rested my forearm over my abdomen, trying to give my shoulder as much lax as I could get away with.

My attention directed to Glenn breathing heavy beside me. Our shoulders are close enough I can feel him shaking though it doesn't look like he is.

It's been awhile since we've been this close to the line. It's understandable he's shaken. I am having all the deja vu tonight, this reminds me of the night we met.

"It's alright. The car's right there." Rick reassured Glenn, having caught on.

"Okay." Glenn nodded, trying to swallow his nerves from the looks of it. He's gonna panic at this rate.

I grabbed Glenn's arm, breathing in through my nose, expelling through my mouth.

"We're almost home." Rick kept looking around. "You good?"

Glenn copied my breathing in rapid succession until he fell into a solid pace; a fast pace, but steady.

"I'm good." he nodded stiffly.

I nodded myself, rolling up on my feet into a crouch.

Rick gave a firm nod, readying himself. "Let's go."

Wait where's Hershel?

Rick moved to make a run for the car on the street barely 60 feet from us, and a shot pierced the dumpster next to him.

"Get back!" He jumped backwards, fixing his eyes on the roof opposite the bar.

Glenn stumbled back into me. I sucked in a sharp breath as my shoulder jostled.

"Are you okay?" Glenn panicked but I was quick to wave him off.

"Nothing I can't handle." I squeezed the gun in my hand, trying to wean the pain out of the forefront of my mind.

Tires squealed from the street and my head snapped up as a big heavy-duty pickup truck stopped in front of the building; between us and our escape vehicle.

"Let's get outta here!" I recognize the man in the driver's seat, shouting from his window.

"Roamers are all over the place! Hurry up! We gotta get outta here!" He's the one who was doing the talking earlier.

"What about Shawn?" the young guy called from the roof.

"They shot him. We gotta go! Roamers are everywhere." the man called again, his urgency increasing by the syllable. That must've been the second shot I heard then.

"We're leavin'?"

"Jump!"

From that height!? He'll never make that.

The kid went to the side of the roof, glancing back at his friend in the truck.

"Hurry up! Jump already!" the impatient man yelled at the kid.

My stomach lurched as he jumped to the next roof; easily a 20 foot drop.

I heard the impact from _here_ , and watched him roll before he tumbled off the ledge outta my line of sight. Not a second later a scream pierced the stilled cold air with a sharp clang.

"Dude didn't make it" Glenn breathed, looking at the ground in front of us.

"Ahhh! Help! Help me!"

"I gotta go! I'm sorry!" I watched the truck move, leaving the kid behind while he screamed for help.

"No! No— don't leave!"

Rick looked back at me and I sighed, already knowing what's running through his head.

Sometimes I wonder if your sense of honor is over inflated, Grimes. But in this instance, I happen to be thinking the same.

We need to get outta here as fast as possible, but even I'm not so cold hearted as to leave some kid to be ripped apart by blunt grinding teeth; still screaming.

"Get Hershel." Rick all but ordered Glenn as I got up, heading for the end of the alley.

The walker growls and moans are getting louder and louder but I don't see any on the street yet. That won't be the case for long.

Let's move quick.

Rick came up and we both ran across the street, still crouched, to the other alley.

A leg atop a dumpster came into view just before I rounded the corner and there was the kid. He can't be more than 19 or 20; laying on top of a thankfully filled trash bin, with 6 inches of an arrowhead fence through his calf.

"Aaaah" the kid was all but screaming, clutching his knee.

"Keep your voice down" Rick snapped as soon as we reached him.

I walked down the alley about 12 feet, checking for walkers but it opens up back here.

We're too exposed. We gotta move, now.

"Help me, please" the kid begged, crying from the pain.

My ribs ached with the increasing tension his loud cries are assaulting my instincts with.

"Rick!" Hershel & Glenn came up behind Rick. "We have to go now."

"No!" The kid cried and my head was on a swivel to see if he'd been heard; and ache blooming in my neck from it now.

"Shh!" Rick hissed.

As much as I agree, we can't just leave him here.

"I'm sorry son, we have to go." Hershel put his hand on the kid's uninjured knee, dangling off the edge of the dumpster.

"No no, don't leave me please." he pleaded, desperation and fear prominent in every atom of his being.

"We have to go." Hershel persisted, trying to get Rick to leave.

"We can't." Rick pulled his stale-mating moral-compass voice.

"He was just shooting at us!" Glenn jabbed his hand at the kid.

" _He's a kid._ " Rick snapped.

 _Ugh— princesses!_ We don't have time for this! _Make a decision or I will act without you._

"This place is crawling with walkers!" Glenn shouted and my attention snapped to him.

What the Hell's gotten into him— that doesn't sound like the Glenn I know; the kid who would risk his life for someone he doesn't even know.

"We can't leave him!" Rick growled matter of factly. He's not going anywhere without this kid, and we all know it. Frankly, I'm not going anywhere either.

He may have been shooting at us but I won't leave him like this. Even if it means putting him out of his misery.

" _Fear is not a reason to leave someone for dead._ " Stone cold fury pumped through my veins, bleeding into the gaze I fixed on three of the most morally grounded grown-ass men I know.

"The fence went clean through." Hershel looked at the kid's leg with the expertise none of the rest of us have. "There's no way we can get the leg off in one piece."

The fence rattled as it shook with his trembling shredded leg, and I grabbed it to silence the noise.

"Shut up, or I will shoot you."

 _Rick,_ that is not helping!

"That may be the answer." Hershel pulled Rick aside onto the sidewalk.

Glenn stepped next to me, and I moved to check the end of the alley again.

My mind's expecting a nasty surprise any moment like you do when you watch a horror movie or play a scary video game; waiting for the jump scare.

Just because there's nothing right now, doesn't mean there won't be soon.

"Shut up. Shut up" Glenn grabbed the kid's leg and the boy yelled again.

"I'm sorry." Glenn let go, backing off. "Sh-sh— shut up."

I came back, snatching the kid's arm to stop him from banging on the dumpster.

"I don't wanna see anymore killin' but this is cruel" Hershel gestured at the kid.

"Can't we just take the leg off?" Glenn suggested.

All conversation stopped, even the kid's screaming stopped, and Rick's eyes met mine for half a second before I looked at the leg and at the kid and back to Rick.

Rick looked back at Glenn, and I could see the exact moment he made the decision. "That hatchet still in the car?"

"No" Glenn answered.

Now this sounds more like you, Ace; but something's still off. I can see it just by looking at him.

"No no no. Don't— don't cut my leg off, please." The kid reached forward, desperate.

"Will this cut through the bone?" Rick pulled his switchblade.

God no— we don't have time to use that wood carver.

"Use mine." I pulled the blade with a ' _shing'_ from it's sheath at my thigh, and held it handle first to Hershel.

"I'll have to sever the ligaments below the knee cap, cut above the tibia. He's gonna lose his lower leg." While Hershel explained/instructed what he was gonna do, the kid kept repeating 'No' over and over but thank Merlin's goat he's not screaming.

"When we get clear of here, we'll have to find some tinder, cauterize the wound so he doesn't bleed out." Hershel whipped off his dress shirt.

"Alright, no choice. Hurry up." Rick came back over to me.

"Oh god, oh god." The kid cried.

I tossed my gun onto the dumpster above the kids head and pulled my belt off, climbing up with my one good arm while Rick slammed the kid down by the chest so he was laid flat.

"Hand me that stick" Hershel instructed Glenn, doing something with his pristine white dress shirt.

I folded my belt, sticking it into the kid's mouth. " _Bite._ "

I grabbed his flailing hand with mine, and already he's squeezing like his life depends on it. It's distracting from my own pain, at least.

"Here here" Glenn handed the vet his stick and I watched Hershel get up on the fence and tie the garment around the kid's upper thigh; using the stick to wind it as tight as possible.

"Guys, walkers" Glenn's rising panic came from the otherside of Hershel, on the street where I can barely see his back from my position.

The kid screamed, releasing my hand and I slammed it over his mouth.

"Shut up" Rick commanded, like it's gonna work. We're about to remove the kid's leg.

I heard Glenn's shotgun blast and glanced, but kept on task helping Hershel.

"Oh God they're everywhere." Rick went towards the back end of the alley, firing.

"Hold this, keep it tight." I did as Hershel told and removed my hand from the kid's mouth, putting my knee on his chest to keep him down now that Rick's gone.

"Hershel, how we doin' over there?" Rick's urgent request came between rounds of fire.

"I need more hands" Hershel fought with the kid's pants, trying to keep the gate still, and ten other things.

Even with 4(more like 3 1/2) hands we're still short. The two of us, even together, can only do so much with what we've got.

"I'm almost outta ammo!" Rick called back.

I grabbed my piece from the dumpster and whistled, throwing it to him as soon as his eyes landed on me.

The chaos around me is almost too much. It feels like a warzone.

Growls, moans, swarms of walkers headed this way from both directions, Rick & Glenn both shouting at us, the kid trying to scream around my belt, Hershel trying his damndest to solo what would take a team of EMT's to do, with a clock that could run out at any second.

"We don't have much time!"

"Come on, we've gotta go!" Glenn's frantic shouting finally drew Rick back towards us.

"We can't hold 'em off! Hershel, do it now!" He came back to the side of the dumpster. "Come on, Hershel!"

"There's no time!" Hershel shouted back at him. I can see Hershel's hands shaking, god damnit why did he have to be drinking before this.

"Hershel, come on!" Glenn shouted.

It's too late. If we stay any longer, all 5 of us are gonna have our strings cut.

Hershel jumped down, giving into Glenn's shouting, and I jumped off the dumpster, landing right beside Rick.

"Please don't leave me! Please! Please don't leave me!" The kid grabbed my jacket, shouting at us— pleading.

Rick stopped at the fence, next to his leg and looked at me.

I glanced at the leg, picking up on what he was about to do, and nodded.

I grabbed my fallen belt and shoved it back into the kid's mouth, almost making him choke on his own screams, as Rick grabbed the underside of his leg.

I braced myself, holding the kid down as best I could with one arm and watched Rick push his leg upwards with all his might.

" _AHHHHHHH!"_


	68. Chapter 65

The scream tore from the kid's lips right in my ear, leaving my eardrum ringing. I slammed my hands over his mouth but his scream was still too loud for me smother.

I shot a desperate look at Rick before I reeled my fist back.

One shot to the side of the head and the kid was out.

I shook out my aching fist, taking my piece from Rick, and covered him while he pulled the kid off the dumpster and threw him over his shoulder.

As soon as Rick was on his way, I followed him, walking backwards until I reached the street and booked it to the car.

I jumped into the back seat just as Rick finished piling the kid in, and shoved the kid's legs outta the way, slamming the door while Rick slammed the driver's side and put pedal to the floor.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

I stared at the roof of my tent for what felt like hours, before I finally sat up and started pickin' at my crossbow.

It's gon' be sunrise soon.

I heard footsteps and peeked outside, unzipping the tent.

Carol? The Hell she doin' back 'ere?

I left my tent, going up behind her while she was looking at my ear-necklace hanging next to my most recent kills strung between two trees.

A twig snapped when I was right behind her, and she whirled around. "What're you doin'?"

She jolted seeing me right behind 'er. "Keepin' an eye on you."

"Ain't you a peach." I circled around her.

"I'm not gonna let you pull away. You've earned your place."

"If you spent half your time mindin' your daughter's business instead of stickin' your nose into everybody else's, she'd still be alive!" Carol took half a step back, as I got closer.

I moved back, and she swallowed.

"Go ahead."

What? The Hell is she talking about?

"Go ahead and what?" I stepped closer again, scowling.

She didn't move, or say nothing. Just stood there, starin' at me.

"Just go! I don't want you here." I swung my arm, moving to go back to my tent but she didn't move; didn't so much as blink.

God, it's almost like lookin' at Eve.

"You're a real piece a work, lady." I jabbed my finger at her, stepping closer again.

"What, are you gonna make this about my daddy or some crap like that?" I moved back again, scoffing. "Pfft, man. You don't know Jack"

The Hell is she doin' just starin at me like that? Like she thinks it'll accomplish somethin' and what was that crap about me not lettin' me pull away?

I know what she's doin'. She's tryna pull the same crap Eve does. Just standin' there takin' everybody's shit but you ain't Eve! That woman can pull shit like this cause she can handle 'erself.

You wanna walk in that woman's shoes? Fine. This oughta get rid of you, then.

"You're afraid. You're afraid cause your all alone. You got no husband, no daughter. You don't know what to do with yourself."

"You ain't my problem! Sophia wasn't mine!" I moved towards her again.

"All you had to do was just keep an eye on 'er!" I stepped closer again.

Carol flinched back and I stopped. My gut tightened as I stepped back, seein' echoes of that flinch; Recognizin' it.

...She thought I was gon' hit her.

Carol released a breath I didn't know she was holding, and I watched her take another one; trembling for a second before it was gone again.

My jaw tightened, remembering seein' it at the quarry. When 'er husband used to...

"Just go." I stalked off back to my tent.

* * *

 **3rd person POV**

Eve rubbed her forehead with her fingers, sighing. 'This has gotten way more complicated than it needed to. These last few days— no since we got onto that stupid highway, it's been one thing after another.'

'People making big deals out of nothing, and in reverse, big deals faded into the background like they weren't issues. Freaking out over what happened, and not bothering to look deeper, into why they did.'

She watched the dark slowly lightening scenery whooshing by outside the vehicle's cabin as it flew down the street.

Less than a mile has never felt so far before, and she decided. 'It's time to put a stop to this over-dramatic bullshit. If you're gonna act like children, that's how I'm gonna treat you. Starting with these three.'

"Pull over."

'It's time to pay the piper, kiddies.'

Rick glanced in the rear view, meeting a hard scowl and although confused, he's known her long enough to know she doesn't speak without reason. So he did as told.

Parking in the middle of the deserted road, surrounded by open fields, gave some solace about being attacked. However confusion was churning like butter in the atmosphere.

Everyone piled out of the vehicle, and stood on the side of the road in a row before Evelyn Rider.

They already knew she had something to say, despite the calm exterior that was actually giving Glenn chills and whatever it is, it doesn't bode well for them.

"I'm disappointed in you." Her voice cut that churned butter like the trusted knives sheathed at her sides.

The men glanced between each other, baffled and already somewhat worried about where this is headed.

"Out of everyone in the group, you are the last people who get to lose your heads."

"What are you talkin' about?" Rick took half a step forward, shifting his weight to one leg.

They all would've been reluctant to admit, they flinched in the next moment, when Eve's eerie calm snapped to cold fury in a split second.

"You don't get to decide to forsake a life whenever you feel like it, or to save your own skins."

A powerful urge pulled at all three of their backs, to step away from her but whether it was through pride, confusion, or pure stubbornness, they couldn't.

"I would've expected this from Shane, or Merle, or even a fair number of the others but not from you three."

Glenn shrunk in on himself a little, feeling far too much like a teenager being scolded by his parents than he was comfortable with.

Hershel, still a little on the tipsy side, simply blinked; startled and having some trouble processing. Even after the sobering events of the night.

Eve sighed, her weight shifting to one leg and let her hands rest on the hilts of her knives, as they were at the perfect height for it. It didn't come off as threatening. A little more casual than 'mom's hands on hips', but perhaps that's only because they know her.

"It's okay to be scared out of your wits, and to not know what the right thing to do is, but letting fear control your actions is not something I will stand for when the fate of everyone I know & care about lies in your hands. Your decisions affect all of us, even when we're not close by."

Guilt pricked all the men standing before her.

Being reminded of their responsibilities after a long rough night that nearly cost all of them their lives, made their tense shoulders drop.

Eve's flaming irises could almost see the weights dragging them down.

Under other circumstances, Eve would have eased up on them at this point; knowing the added pressure wouldn't help. However, this is not one of those times.

They can't afford that luxury anymore, and tonight they've shown her she's given them far too much liberty with it.

She trusted them to make sound calls, and apparently that was a mistake.

It's time they learn this lesson. The hard way. Before they do something that gets someone killed.

"This, will never happen again or by the devil's hand, I will give you something to fear. Do I make myself clear."

Glenn cast his eyes to the ground, an ashamed nod being all the response he could muster.

He knew this was directed more at Rick & Hershel but it twisted his gut. Every word.

Eve is right. She's always right. The very fact she is speaking— that she felt the need to, means something wasn't right.

When he saw her get shot… when he looked back at watched her hit the ground, he just… He froze.

The only thing that went through his mind was Maggie. How devastated she'd be if it had been him and not Eve.

He wanted to pull her to safety but if she hadn't told him to stay put(more or less), he doesn't think he would've been able to.

It scares him.

To think he would've left his best friend to die, because he was afraid of Maggie losing him.

Rick has stared down all kinds of people before. He's looked into the eyes of innocents, killers, criminals, and held his ground; not wavered for a single moment. But as he stared into the burning embers of amber eyes, he couldn't do it.

His eyes directed to the pavement before the thought had even crossed his mind.

Evelyn Rider is no doubt one of the most formidable people he has ever met. He's seen the woman take on Dixon's without breakin' a sweat. He's seen this soul-chilling gaze before, but he hadn't ever thought to imagine the day when those eyes were turned on him.

If she voiced this warning, she will do it. This is not a slap on the wrist.

Eve was furious. It's amazing she's been able to uphold her rational mind.

She's just scolded grown-ass men like children, and the worst part? Is she had to do it at all.

This is not the first scolding she's given to members of this group, unfortunately it won't be the last either. Since she seems to be the only person around, who can set her personal feelings aside and focus on solving the damn problem without making life 20 times harder in the process.

Hershel looked into the familiar unwavering eyes of a dangerously patient woman, who has reached the end of it.

The peeking sunlight cast over her shadowed face, scorching the amber spheres. Only to shine an unnerving light on the overlooked fact that almost nobody has any idea exactly what this silent killer is capable of.

Hershel is not one to take a warning shot lightly; especially a woman's. His late wife Josephine made sure of that.

His gaze averted to the pavement beneath his shoes. Overwhelmed by the distinct feeling, she's being merciful by warning them at all.

Eve waited until she was certain they'd gotten the message before heading to the car, and pulling the door open.

"Do not force my hand."


	69. Chapter 66

**Hey guys, how r u all doin? I hope better than me rn.**

 **I have a confession to make.**

 **The last couple weeks, I feel like I've been trudging. Like this story has been dragging on, and to be 100% percent honest with you guys, I feel like I've been grating my forehead against a cheese grater.**

 **I'd rather not give up on this just yet, and if I can find a way to keep it going, I will try my damnedest to see this through to the bitter end.**

 **The point of me telling you this, is to give you a heads up, so it doesn't just come flying outta left field. I am going to experiment a little, take some creative freedoms.**

 **Not everything I try will work, I'm well aware that this could go sideways** _ **real**_ **fast. But hey if we don't explore, we will never find anything.**

 **So I'm apologizing in advance for any cringe, OOC, or if the pacing gets weird, or any other stupid shit that should never have seen the light of day.**

 **Now that I've cleared that up.**

 **Story time!**

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

I watched Glenn flinch as I slammed the door shut.

All of them made their way back into the vehicle. Rick and Hershel with the faces of moody children.

While Glenn seems truly guilty, climbing in and spending the next 20 minutes of the car ride glancing at the kid between us.

He helped me bind my shoulder until we get back and Hershel can stitch it. Lord am I not looking forward to that.

I grimaced at the kid beside me, catching Glenn's sight as he looked up from the stranger as well.

He's been out way longer than intended. I really didn't think I hit him so hard but I'm starting to worry his head is softer than it looks...

I chewed on my lip, and pushed two fillanges against his neck.

My gut rolled over itself until the skin pounded underneath my tense fingertips.

I let loose a stunted breath in relief; scrubbing my hand over my neck.

He's alive at least.

"He could wake up soon. We can't have him seein' where we're headed." Rick broke the silence.

"What do you suggest?" Glenn leaned forward a bit, looking between Hershel and Rick in the front seats.

"We could blindfold him." Hershel suggested, glancing into the backseat.

With what? I mean, I guess we could use my belt, or that dirty rag by Glenn—…

I looked down, raising my shirt, searching my waist for the broad holed black belt that's supposed to be securing my pants, but it wasn't there.

Where the… Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

My hand came to my forehead, resting on the ridges of my brows; shadowing my closed eyes.

You have got to be kidding me.

Of all the places— all the ways to lose something and of course, I leave my belt on a dumpster in the center of a walker-ridden town in the dead of night (pun not intended).

I sighed, watching Glenn tie the dirty rag around the kid's eyes.

Dude's gonna freak when he wakes up, but at least he still has a leg. And we didn't leave him for the walkers.

All in all, I think he had a pretty lucky night.

I leaned back, watching out the window as I let my head roll against the seat.

My ribs are sore. Being repeatedly beaten up in less than a week can't be good for recovery.

My shoulder is killing me with the sting, burning pain.

I'm starving. I can barely feel my throat it's so dry. I can't swallow for shit but my throat keeps trying to. And my eyes are heavy but I can't sleep.

I keep thinking about all the ways this is gonna go wrong, how this could have gone wrong. What else could go wrong, because apparently we can't get our shit together to stand for more than 20 minutes before something happens.

God, I dread to think how this is go over with the group— with Officer hothead in particular.

Nobody's gonna be too happy about this. From the tension in my car mate's shoulders, they know it too.

This is gonna be a nightmare.

* * *

As soon as the car stopped, I all but dropped out the side. Stumbling onto my exhausted feet, my leg muscles weak like I went on a 10 mile run.

I spied Daryl almost as soon as I looked up. He was already coming towards me, looking me up and down.

"We were 'bout to come find your dumb asses."

I sighed, not even finding the energy to blow my sticky bangs off my forehead. I'm exhausted, cranky, and I just want to take a quiet nap in the sun, in the field, after a hot shower. And not be woken until next week, unless someone's dying.

If I could wake up for five minutes and conk out again like that kid Randall(as we found out) in the car, that'd be great.

"The Hell happened to you?" Daryl's brow knit together as he moved to look at my arm.

I shook my head, using my tongue to pull my dry lips into my mouth and try to restore a little moisture.

"Who the Hell is that?" T-Dog pointed at the car.

"That's Randall." Glenn answered, grimacing.

Daryl looked at me and I already know what he's thinking. He doesn't exactly like people. He can barely tolerate everyone in the group, much less some kid we've never met.

The last time we picked up some kid, Daryl dropped his brother's severed hand in the poor guy's lap.

I don't evny Randall.

"Come on" Daryl tugged on my wrist, jerking his head towards the house.

I followed without question, focusing on not swaying as I went up the stairs.

Water first, everything else can come later.

* * *

I sat at the dining table, Daryl had his hand on my left shoulder, keeping me in my seat while Patricia took a needle the size of a spear and poked it through my skin.

If it weren't Daryl's almost painful grip on my shoulder, I do not care how tired my legs are, I would have been long gone the second she came in with the suture equipment.

I'm really trying not to think about it, and thank goodness the entire group assembled in one room is enough bitching to help.

I still tried to get away a few times though. Which is also when Beth came over to hold my hand.

"If you don't want stitches, don' get shot."

Wonderful advice. Thank you, Daryl. I'll be sure to remember that next time we're under fire.

23.

23 stitches and she was finally done.

As soon as she was finished, I was outta that chair so fast it almost fell over.

I went for the door without even thinking, where I was blocked from running by Daryl. "Ey, ey. You ain't done yet."

God no. Damn you and your chest, Dixon. Move!

Maggie came over to bind my arm, while Daryl's tight grip on my other elbow kept me from going anywhere.

When Patricia took the needles from the room, I felt much better and was able to calm down enough to stand there and let her finish; albeit ansty.

Shane was having his usual pissing fit, about the kid. He said something about getting him flowers and candy, but I've started tuning out 90% of what these people say. So only the weird bits catch my attention anymore.

Plus I feel like I'm about to pass out, and honestly don't know what the Hell to attribute it to at this point.

Someone passed me a glass of water and I swear my jaw unhinged to down as much of it in one go as possible. Which was practically the entire glass.

I caught Daryl looking at me strange and raised a brow, but he just shook his head.

Now that I can feel my throat, I might be able to squeeze another hour or so out of myself to play referee.

I should come up with a system to help the kids play with each other. Or maybe I should just let them tear each other apart for once.

I finally understand why parents always look so tired. I haven't slept since yesterday.

I didn't even realize I was beginning to lean, until my uninjured shoulder touched Daryl's and all he did was look at me.

Maybe it's just my state of energy deprivation, but he didn't flinch or tense like usual.

I probably just didn't notice considering I can't even find the energy to stand up straight anymore.

I attempted to get off him, attempt being the key word, but I just couldn't find the energy to care if we're touching shoulders.

How are Rick and them even doing this still? My eyelids are pulling my entire head down with them.

Daryl shifted his weight to his other leg, providing better support for the both of us, and I gave up on trying to get outta his space. If he doesn't mind, I don't see why I should right now. I am barely staying on my feet as is.

I would have moved back to the chair but that's where the needles were, and that ain't happenin'.

When will this um…"adjourning" be over? I don't say this often, but as much as I like listening to everyone and their uncle's opinions, I have better things to do at the moment.

Like, stop the mass murder of my brain cells, and keep my body from going on strike for the next month.


	70. Chapter 67

Another ten minutes of "conversation" and I was fallin' asleep on my feet. My eyes betrayed me a while ago, and have been letting my ears do all work since.

In the end, Rick finally declared we weren't gonna do anything about it today.

Hallelujah

The kid's gonna be off his feet for at least a week, according to Hershel.

Rick's plan is to let him heal up, then take him out onto the road far from the farm, give him a canteen, and send him on his way.

I think it's a solid plan, though I may not be in my right mind at the moment so I'm reserving judgement.

Shane's been angry about us killing a bunch of their guys & taking one of them hostage but the Hell were we supposed to do?

I guarantee that if he had there, he would have done much worse. Damn hypocrite.

Rick brought up a valid point in response though, I gotta give him props for that. Those guys left Randall for dead. As sad as it is, nobody is looking for this kid.

I understand why everyone is hesitant. Why they're concerned; it's wise caution. I myself am indecisive about the kid.

But the fact remains, he is on his own now.

His group likely thinks he's dead, he doesn't know where he is, or who he's being held by. He's severely injured, and even unconscious right now. He couldn't run even he wanted to.

Plus why would he run from the people who just saved his life —and didn't leave him to be eaten alive when his own group— the people he trusted, left him to the walkers?

Pegged to a fence like a cocktail party snack.

Randall is completely at our mercy, and I don't know why no one's acknowledging that. I can't be the only person here who sees that, can I?

Rick— or Hershel, should have at least should have had similar thoughts, right?

"'ey" Daryl bumped me with his elbow to get my eyes open and jerked his head over his shoulder.

I licked my lips, finally mustering myself to carry my own weight again, and followed him out as the group began to disperse.

I was stumbling over my own boots every so often, and didn't even notice I was on autopilot. I probably look like a walker right now, and doesn't that just make my skin crawl.

Daryl stopped and I almost walked into him.

"Go sleep." He pointed, to what I now realize is my tent.

I nodded without a second thought and I was there. Dropping my gear the second I practically tripped inside and collapsed on my sleeping bag.

* * *

 **3rd Person POV**

Eve was out like a light the second she was on the ground. With her skin against the clean fabric, the stark contrast of filth was hard to miss.

She didn't look that dirty when she was walking around, or even leaning on Daryl earlier, but it was blatantly obvious now.

Her skin is several shades darker in patches all over her face. A grimy glisten to her skin, dark tangled hair sprinkled with little bits of what looks like gravel webbed over & sticking to her neck, flakes of crusted blood all over her skin; especially her right hand knuckles.

Daryl went on his way back out to his campsite before someone called out to him from the porch.

He turned and spied Hershel coming down the steps with something in his hand. Something he recognized in an instant, Eve's knife.

Daryl's eyes narrowed on the old man. ' _The Hell does he got 'er knife for?'_

"Could you return this for me? I'd do it myself but I need to get back in there."

Tonguing his molars, Daryl took the sleek blade; Unsure why he was agreeing to the task, when he had made it crystal clear he was done bein' a gofer for these people.

If it wasn't Eve's he'd have told the old man to do it himself, but he was willing to do this one thing for the only person round 'ere who doesn't push their shit on him.

Hershel went back inside, and Daryl made a return trip to Eve's tent.

This thing is heavier than it looks but it didn't feel weighed down. The handle is a nice weight in his palm, balancing the blade out. He's seen Eve strike with these things, her precision is hard to miss.

' _Where'd she get these anyway?'_ he turned the blade over in his hand, glancing up to watch where he's going as he got within the camp.

Eve doesn't strike him as the type to have something like this made special. Which you'd have to, for quality and craftsmanship like this. They don't sell these kind of knives just anywhere.

They're not meant to sit on a shelf, these things are meant to be used with how sharp they are. She keeps 'em sharp too. Hell he practically never sees her without them, or without 'em close by.

Why would Hershel have it? It's not like he can use it like she could. Surely they'd be better off having Eve use both, than giving one to Hershel even if he didn't have a weapon.

Lowering the blade as he came up on his destination, Daryl stepped one foot inside her open tent, sliding the knife into its sheath just inside the door.

Eve shifted when he did so; muttering. And if he snorted at that moment, no one would ever know.

Why did he snort?

Because, from the long winded sentence that spilled from her normally quiet pie-hole, he only caught 'mayonnaise' 'baby legs' and 'watermelon'.

Daryl walked away, shaking his head. Clearing his throat to wipe the smile off his face, and started off on his trek back out to his campsite.

* * *

Eve shot up from her sleeping bag, her breaths coming fast & sharp as her hand shot to her shoulder and she flinched as the stitches pulled in her other at the motion.

Her eyes darted around, fixing on the open tent door, and grabbing her knife without even thinking.

The edge shone in the moonlight as it laid down her arm in the ever ready position to slash, stab, or flip & throw.

Beads of sweat stung her skin like icy drops and she waited.

Silence in the night wind was the only thing that greeted her for the long minutes she sat there at the ready.

Her hand gripped tight around her knife. Swallowing around her parched throat with her steadily decreasing pants.

She dropped her knife finally, forcing her shaky breaths through her nose at last, she fisted the sleeping bag she was on top of.

The moon was bright tonight, or maybe it was just her eyes adjusted well to the dark in a fit of adrenaline, but she could clearly see that she was alone. Too clearly.

She scrubbed a hand over his forehead, wiping the clammy sweat from it and pulled her knees up to lay her elbows over.

She's still wearing her shoes. Which she just dragged a streak of dirt over her sleeping bag. Great.

Wiping her hand off on her jeans, she grabbed her bag and peeled her sweaty, grimy ass day clothes from her skin in exchange for her looser but still running friendly night clothes; In other words, workout sweats.

It was difficult to work around wounds and tired muscles but she managed.

She rubbed her eye with her palm before realizing there was something dry and sticky on it that flaked off.

Sighing, she stood up, shifting around in her bag for a wash cloth before —in a rare instance— pulling her gear on over her difficult nightwear.

The reason she doesn't usually wear it over these is because it's more difficult to secure it around loose clothes than her more streamline day stuff.

She doesn't wear fit jeans and wide strap tank tops(or a simple black shirt) for fashion. They're functional.

So wearing this with her gear felt odd and she kept adjusting it, even though it was on correctly.

She looked at her gun sitting on the ground, waiting to be picked up but she could only stare.

Her mouth dried, and her stomach rolled staring at it.

Noticing her the shake in her hand as her fingertips brushed her thigh, she turned away quick; leaving her tent without looking back.

It's not smart to wander around in the dead of night without her gun, but it's plain stupid to take it with her as she is now.

Besides, they're not supposed to be carrying guns on the property anyway, right?


	71. Chapter 68

**Eve's POV**

Before I knew it, I was running towards the well, away from camp.

My muscles cried but everything else told me to go faster. My head, the prickle of every hair on the back of my neck. The paranoia even though I knew it was paranoia. The incessant feeling of being chased— all of it.

All of it pushed me faster & faster until I was panting a storm and came to a skidding halt at the well, kicking up dust in my wake that was swept by the wind and carried to be dispersed over the wide open fields, with grass too tall for my liking.

My eyes constantly moved. My head was on a swivel as I collected water, soaking it up into the cloth, and cleaned the blood from my skin like it was burning me.

I finally slowed down when my skin wasn't noticeably red anymore; though from the sting I probably scrubbed a good two layers off and it's almost undoubtedly an angry red. But red of a different sort I can handle over its predecessor.

I checked my throbbing shoulder but the bandage is still white, so it isn't bleeding. That means the stitches are intact; Thank Merlin's magical overalls.

I wiped the cloth over my skin, dipping it in the bucket a few times as I cleaned the blood and perspiration from my dirty skin.

Part of me wanted a shower, a stronger part wanted to be as far as possible from the house.

I have to calm down.

This place is okay. I can handle anything that pops up out here. It's alright. Breathe.

I won't be able to sleep like this, even if I go back.

Perimeter check?

I nodded to myself, and draped the cold damp cloth around my neck.

This time I started running with proper form, and kept a steady pace, still checking my surroundings in a constant sweep; like a sentry.

* * *

I ran a lap all the way around without seeing anything, and running put my mind at rest enough that I stopped feeling like I was being watched about halfway through.

Until I was coming back on the final length and stopped to breath, seeing an orangish light.

Daryl's camp is over there.

He isn't still awake is he?

My feet carried me that way before I fully made the decision and another short minute or so run later, I was slowing down at the edge of his campsite.

I was right. He is still awake.

He looked up from the fire he was staring at and I saw his hand go for his crossbow the next second.

My hands came up instinctively, in surrender and he relaxed; fully seeing me.

He shook his head, releasing a breath. "One a these days, ur gonna end up with a bolt between the eyes."

Yeah… I don't have any room to argue there. It's probably a matter of when, not if. And it'd probably be my own damn fault.

His eyes flickered over me, and I watched his shoulders tense so much it straightened his spine.

"Did somethin' happen?"

I glanced around before shaking my head; not entirely sure if he means 'something' like the camp is under attack, or someone died, or 'something' as in… yeah let's not go there again. I just got away, I'd like to keep it that way for a little while at least.

Daryl looked at me and I had the strangest sense of being able to read his mind. He doesn't think I'm telling the truth but also looks like knows I'm not lying.

It would be Hella creepy(and maybe, like, sorta cool) if that's actually what he's thinking but I'm not gonna chance finding out, because that would require cluing him in on my train of thought.

"Then why you runnin?"

I opened my mouth, just to psyche him out by blowing air out, and wiping the sweat off my brow with my towel. Hey that rhymes.

He gave me a dead-panned 'really' look. Sheesh, I gotta stop inadvertently teaching him my ways or it really will be like reading each other's minds.

Don't get me wrong, that's useful in a lot of aspects, but obviously not for hiding what's on your mind. If this is gonna be a two way street though, I petition we call it 'Eve speak'.

I shrugged, waving my hand as I walked over. "It's relaxing."

He scooched without fuss, and I plopped myself on the log next to him, leaning over to let my elbows rest on my knees.

"She speaks." Daryl mocked, stoking the fire with the long stick in his hand.

I shoved him with my elbow, the corner of my lip quirking up, but he was looking at me now. The same way he does when he's studying someone's expression.

I wonder if he knows he does that. I'm gonna guess no; either that or I'm the only person who's noticed that face isn't just a blank stare.

I admit, the subtle differences between his contemplative faces are tricky. I wouldn't be surprised if no one else has noticed. He's not exactly an open book. Took me forever to figure them out, and I still can't tell what he's thinking— Hell, I still mistake 'em for something different sometimes.

"The Hell you awake for anyway? Shouldn't you be unconscious or somethin'?"

My eyebrow furrowed, one side dipping lower than the other with the slight opening of my jaw. Why would I be unconscious?

"Ya didn't sleep yesterday. Spent all night runnin' round town like a buncha headless chickens."

Eve speak strikes again.

You know, there's something about just watching a fire that brings peace of mind. You can sit and turn off your brain for a while without actually turning it off.

Daryl took my silence as a cue and shifted, taking his gaze back to the burning wood.

"Thought about going after ya."

I looked over to meet his eyes.

"Thought bout where you'd go and shit, if ya weren't at the bar." He averted his gaze from mine but not off of me for another second.

"Why didn't you?"

I watched him pick something off the stick and tossed it at the fire.

He was quiet for a long moment before shrugging. "Thought you could handle yerself."

"I can."

He looked at me.

"Doesn't mean I don't need someone there. Or that I can't get unlucky." I lifted my shoulder a bit, glancing at the bandage wrapped around my arm.

He looked down between us, like he was thinking about something bitter-sweet and muttered gruffly, "...I know"

There was a long pass of silence, but it's eating me. Which is an uncomfortable feeling in and of itself.

I'm not used to silence making me uncomfortable, but it feels like he's got something else to say and isn't saying it.

Is there a moon-walking bear I've missed somewhere in here?

"Ya don't always gotta help, ya know. They can take care a themselves."

"I know." A deep exhale passed through my nose as the ache in my legs began stretching to the forefront of my mind. My hand slid down my calf, rubbing it.

"Why do you?" Daryl's face portrayed the most unmasked curiosity I've ever seen on him.

"Why don't you?" I countered.

"I ain't no babysitter" he scoffed, pushing a log back into the flames; sending cinders into the air in a flurry of tiny red fireflies, vanishing as quick as they came.

My face pinched towards my nose in mostly confusion but also somewhat disbelief. "You think it's babysitting to watch someone's back?"

"..." Daryl glanced at me but remained silent. Eve speak pings that as a yes. At the very least it isn't a no, or he would've said so.

"Does that mean you think I've been babysitting you?"

"No. I don't need no babysitter." He raised his far leg up, propping it on a smaller log in front of him, so his knee was closer to his chest and he could rest his arm over it.

"Why do you think it's babysitting when it's someone else, then?"

"Cause we're always pullin' them outta shit they got themselves into. All of 'em actin' like we're a goddamn safety net. Like we can't get lynched or some shit." Daryl stabbed his stick into the ashes built up underneath the fire, his core tightening and sending a visible cascade of tension through the rest of his muscles. In his neck, especially when he gets angry.

"That's what a group is for, Daryl."

He looked at me, jaw clenched.

"Being together is what makes us strong. We don't abandon one another when we're being crushed. We share the load. Some of us are stronger than others right now. We may need to take more, and it sucks ass, but there will always be times you just have to grit your teeth and dig in."

"I'd rather have even just one other person there with me, than try to take it alone. Wouldn't you?"

* * *

 **Hello, beautiful Chinchillas~ I have a few questions for you guys today if you don't mind. I've been thinking about them for awhile now, and I'm really curious.**

 **Who's your favorite Walking Dead character?**

 **What's been your favorite chapter so far?**

 **What do you like most about Sneaky?**

 **And what would you like to see more of?**


	72. Chapter 69

Daryl looked back at the fire, exhaling through his nose.

You don't have to like it. You just have to swallow it; it's the world we live in.

I licked my lips. A question I've been thinking about for awhile now, burning on my tongue. I haven't found the right time to ask but maybe there is no right time. I both want and don't want the answer, so I've been avoiding it for some time.

"Have you decided?"

"What?" Daryl looked at me, confused.

"Have you decided..." I repeated. "If you're gonna stay?"

Daryl stared at me with his jaw tight. Like a kid caught cheating on his homework.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

He groaned a sigh and stabbed the fire again. Distant thunder caught my ear and apparently Daryl's too as we both turned, looking off into the woods but more at the tree tops than under the canopy.

I didn't notice the temperature dropping sitting by the fire next to Daryl but now that my attention was on it, I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck creeping up.

Thousand one...Thousand two...Thousand three. I steadily counted, trying to determine whether the storm was coming or going. How I used to since I was a kid. Though back then it was rarely for an actual storm. Even if it didn't work, I still did it for some reason. To this day I'm not entirely sure why.

A chilling breeze whooshed the flames consuming the logs in front of us, pushing my hair away my neck to nip goosebumps into my skin. "It's headed this way."

Daryl grunted, looking up at the sky. I followed his gaze to waves of dark grey clouds above us. It's weird that it's the middle of the night but we can see the rolling bank of silver and grey covering the stars.

Something hit my cheek and I flinched more violently than I would've expected, accidentally hitting Daryl's elbow with mine. A zing bolted up my arm as he grunted, both of us grabbing our elbows at the same time grunting in pain.

Daryl hissed, then flinched himself and looked up. "The Hell?"

More drops began hitting me and instinctively my arms lifted to cover my head though it won't do much good.

Daryl hunched with every drop that pelted him and stood up, me right along with him.

Within seconds, it was pouring and Daryl was ripping his tent open, both of us ducking inside, and as if it was just waiting for us to get under cover a loud crack of thunder echoed through the sky and rivers ran from the sky.

Daryl grumbled, scowling outside. "That came outta nowhere"

Yeah no kidding. Is it possible it's been creeping up for a while and we were just too distracted to hear it?

I'm not sure I like that explanation any more than a flash flood.

The campfire outside hissed with every drop that hit it. Like water on a hot pan, until we could no longer hear it over the sound of the rain.

I leaned over a little bit to try to get a look outside but I can barely see the house anymore through this downpour.

I grimaced at the thought of trying to book it back to camp, and looked at Daryl.

"Don't even try." He shook his head, as if reading my mind. "Best to just wait it out."

I nodded, somewhat apologetically.

"Might as well get comfortable. It's gon be a while." Daryl sat down and pulled his boots off.

I nodded and took a seat next to him, doing the same and tossed my muddy boots into the same corner as his.

My shirt clung to my skin just like before when I was running, only this time it's really soaked.

Thank god I don't wear white anymore —and neither does Daryl— or this would get awkward fast.

I rung out my hair over the edge of the tent, as Daryl rung out the end of his shirt.

It never ceases to amaze me just how fast rain can soak you.

I blew my hair out of my face, flinging the annoying tussle over my shoulder.

I leaned away as Daryl shook his head, his hair scattering water in every direction.

I stretched my toes now that they're free from the cage of my boots.

The rain may have distracted for a moment but as soon as we settled back down, the 'elephant in the room' atmosphere from before crept back.

Only now it was a bit more awkward because we're trapped in here together. Neither of us can just leave unless we don't wanna be in here so bad that we're willing to go out in that.

I don't do well with awkward. It's never been my strong suit.

"If you really want to leave, I'm not going to try and stop you. Nobody has the right to. I know how troublesome these guys can be." I motioned in the general direction of the others. "Just… please" I looked at him, and he was staring back at me. "Take a few days and think it through before you make a final decision. You're not the only who will be affected."

Daryl looked down at his hands, picking at his fingernails, and after a long moment, he nodded.

* * *

My chin rested on my arms as I laid on my stomach, staring at the rainy sky next to Daryl who was on his back, arms behind his head; looking out the tent door upside down.

It's been two hours and it hasn't let up. What started out as a flash flood has turned into an actual rainstorm.

The ground's nothing but mud at this point, and the fire pit practically sank a half hour ago.

I let out a soft sigh, poking my tongue against the inside of my cheek. Quietly watching the rain come down, keeping the both of us trapped in the small fabric hut.

As sudden as it was, it's actually kinda nice.

The wind chill isn't bad from inside here, despite the fact we've got the door open. The water itself is kinda warm which is weird since winter is just around the corner.

The silence would've been kinda awkward if the both of us weren't so comfortable with quiet.

I never understood why people get uncomfortable with silence. I treasure it when it's quiet. It brings me peace of mind. Let's me think.

Maybe that's why. People who are afraid of their own minds don't like to be inside them.

Meanwhile, I love my mind. It's my favorite place to retreat to. Be free to wonder things like, what walker's do during a thunderstorm? Try to bite the sky? Chase lightning? Try to eat rain?

Daryl shifted, looking at me strangely. "Only you would be curious bout that."

What? Did I say that out loud?

"Yeah, ya did." he snorted, an amused smirk on his face.

I reeled, sitting up on my elbows and sank my teeth into my bottom lip. Exactly how much of that did I say out loud?

"Relax, Sunshine." Daryl half-heartedly rolled his eyes. "Yer strange thoughts are still yours 99% a the time."

Okay, I am positive I didn't say anything that time. So unless I have ventriloquist talents I wasn't aware of until this very moment, there's only one explanation for this: Eve speak.

I set my chin back down, and rolled my head from side to side on my wrists; only somewhat appeased by the fact he doesn't seem phased by anything he heard.

If I ask him what he heard, or what I said, he'll know there's something I didn't want heard. But if I already said it, then what does it matter? But if that's the case, why should I bring it back up and make things awkward and embarrassing(for me)?

Agh! My head hurts, I'm too tired for this. Fine, whatever. I'm not doing myself any favors right now. This time I'll let it go, and pretend/hope he didn't hear anything except the walkers storm thing. Because it's obvious I at least said that.

I sighed again, pressing my forehead into my wrists. It may or may not have been to hide the rising temperature in my face but that's my business.

You know most people would be happy having someone you feel so comfortable with, your thoughts just spew without you noticing. But for me? Not so much.

It's been happening more and more often, and it's still weird.


	73. Chapter 70

**Daryl's POV**

My eyes peeled open and the first thing that came to my attention other than the light was muttering next to me.

I turned and jumped finding a mass of dark hair scattered over a head that was buried face down in her arms. "If it's too cold, run outside and jump in the snow. Then it will be colder and the fish will be pleased."

"The hell?" I sat up and reached over, carefully picking a clump of brown hair off her face. Nope, she is asleep.

I glanced outside where the mud was slowly becoming solid again instead of sludge.

It must'a rained all night.

Pulling my knees up, I grabbed my boots from the corner; almost putting Eve's shoe on before realizing the shoe is black and not just covered in mud like mine.

Eve groaned in a sleepy whine, shifting, and dragged her face across the ground as she turned her head the other direction.

If I don't get her up while she's somewhat awake now, she'll keep sleepin' for who knows how long.

"Ey" I tapped her side with my knuckles.

"Mmm" she groaned again, curling but didn't give any indication of being awake let alone getting up.

"You don't get up now, ur gonna miss breakfast."

I started as her head snapped up, hair tangled over her face in a way that gave me serious deja vu. She tried to push it out of her way but it only tangled further and the more she did, the more it looks like the swamp monster's return.

"Stop, ur only makin it worse. Just sit up." I pushed her boots towards her.

She sighed, before pushing herself up, surfer style and pulled her knees in front of her to grab her boots.

I got up, ducking out of the tent while she put her shoes on and went to check on my game that was strung up on a line between two trees.

Eve came out a minute later, untangling a hair tie from the tangles and whipped her hair around before trying to pull it back.

I watched in amusement for a good five minutes while she tried to fight with it but it was just not having it and finally she huffed, pulling her knife.

"What are you doing?" I watched with a skeptical gaze as she grabbed a fist full of her hair, raising the knife to it.

She paused to look at me, before grumbling. "A haircut's in order."

"Why don' you just ask Carol or one a 'em to cut it?"

She stopped right as she was about to sheer herself. Staring at the tangled mess she pursed her lips and nodded, sheathing the blade.

"You comin?" I scooped up my crossbow and started towards camp. Eve right behind me.

We walked in silence over uneven ground, Eve stretching as we went. Her bones cracking, and little noises of relief after stretching a stiff muscle. Right up until we reached the path near the barn, following it up towards camp.

When we got closer, people were already up and about and Carl waved. I saw Eve wave back out of the corner of my eye, while she raised her other hand to cover a yawn.

She tensed next to me and I craned my neck as her pace slowed, lightening her step to the point where it might as well be erased.

Her eyes steeled, narrowing just the slightest. Careful observance spreading through the vivid amber color. The way it does when she's being cautious.

I followed her line of sight to Shane, leant against a tree.

She's being wary at this distance? We ain't even made it to the edge of camp yet.

She's been doing this for awhile now, and I don't think she realizes either.

I slowed, glancing at her again as we came up on Carol & Lori cooking breakfast at the fire.

Eve ruffled Carl's hair as she sat down next to the kid.

Carol handed Eve a plate and she inhaled 'er food as always. She was done in under a minute.

I didn't pay much attention as she put 'er plate in the wash tub, before disappearing somewhere and comin' back a minute later with a pair a scissors.

I watched from my seat while Eve practically mimed what she wanted, as usual.

Last night was weird. It was almost like when she was drunk. It's weird seein' her flip back and forth.

Half the time I almost forget she don't talk much, the other half I expect 'er to just speak.

Sometimes I wonder why she does it. Why she only talks to me. I ain't no chatty cathy neither.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

I sat on the log with a towel around my neck, trying not to fidget too much.

I'm so glad I got these scissors for Lori back at the quarry— I'm glad she asked me to find some when me & Glenn went out. Haircuts are not really a top priority when it comes to survival, but in a way they are. They play a role.

Too long, it's easy to grab. Too short it's easier to lose heat, and your neck is exposed to the elements, bugs, the sun.

That's why I'm trying not to flinch while the woman with a very sharp pair of scissors is near my neck, while she cuts my shoulder-blade length dark hair, to leaving the end just brushing up against the top of my shoulders.

Enough to keep me warm. Enough to cover my neck, keep it protected. Still long enough to put up. Unfortunately that also means it's long enough to be pulled still but not anything like before. If it's within grabbing distance now, I'm already in trouble.

It's not that I don't trust Lori, it's just… having someone I can't see, near my neck, with a blade of any sort is not a feeling that sits easy with me.

Lori moved my head for the 3rd time, chuckling in a fond tone. "Gosh, you're almost as bad as Carl."

Daryl snorted and I pulled my bottom eyelid down, sticking my tongue out at him; which caused Carl to erupt in a fit of giggles and Carol to smile just before Rick came walking up.

His eyebrow quirked with a hint of smile. "Get tired of havin' it long?"

I shrugged

"Something like that" Daryl's face contorted with a wicked amused smirk. "Should'a seen her trynna get it off 'er face earlier"

I sent dagger eyes towards him, but the tight pinching of my lips, trying to suppress a smile probably ruined it. And as evident by another round of laughs at my expense, it did.

Rick returned to somewhat serious. Uh oh. I know that stance.

"When yer done here, I have a favor to ask. If yer not busy."

I blinked and shook my head. Lori gasped and I jumped before she grabbed my noggin.

"Evelyn Rider."

I froze. Unintentionally puffing out my cheeks, as I watched in the corner of my eye for Lori.

"Good girl" I heard snipping again, and started breathing again.

Rick chuckled. "I'll meet you down by the barn after ur done." And there he goes. Off to do leader things.

Daryl finished his food, and stood up; pulling his crossbow over his shoulders. "Let's go hunt after ur chat."

I gave an okay sign this time, very nearly forgetting again but I remembered, and that's all that counts.


	74. Chapter 71

**What?**

 **What is this? A chapter?**

 **But it's not Monday.**

 **A new cover too!? What is going on!?**

 **I'll tell you what's going on, you fantastic fishies you.**

 **I love you all so much it physically hurts.**

 **No I'm serious, I hurt my foot, violently rolling on the floor and jumping like it was a hot pan _days_ ago and it still hurts.**

 **Why? Because I woke up last week, on a seemingly insignificant morning, and was just lounging in bed, until I could muster the motivation to get up. You know how it is.**

 **I got on Wattpad, and I have never sat up so fast in my life. _ESPECIALLY_ not in the a.m.**

 **I must've stared for a solid minute at this little badge attached to Sneaky that said, "#1 ranked in AMC"**

 **I**

 ** _lost_**

 ** _my_**

 ** _shit_**

 **I didn't expect to be ranked in the top 10 of anything, let alone #1!**

 **And if that wasn't enough, you guys took it a step further, and yesterday I saw the badge had changed, and Sneaky is #1 ranked in both AMC, and Daryl Dixon as of 5-17-2018.**

 **So I decided to check the stats on here too and HOLY CRAP you guys. This story has over 23,000 reads!**

 **I can't thank you guys enough. Thank you all so much, for reading and helping me achieve one of the greatest things that's ever happened to me. And to celebrate I'm giving you an early chapter with a few scenes I was originally going to cut.**

 **Now enough talk**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

* * *

I made my way down to Rick inside the barn. He didn't see me coming as he was looking around the interior; eyeing the rafters.

I watched for a moment, trying to figure out what he was doing before tapping my foot to announce my presence. He spun around but at least it isn't weapon first like I'm used to.

For someone who was just snuck up on, he doesn't seem too shook but then again, he was expecting me.

"Nice" Rick motioned at my hair and I smiled, glancing at the ends. But we're not here to talk about my haircut.

I shifted my weight to lean against one of the interior supports, and quirked a brow.

"I'll get straight to the point. How often do you use your gun?"

That came outta nowhere. I don't use it often, but he knows that. So why the sudden interest?

Rick observed my expression and must've found a good enough answer because he nodded. "Could you teach me how to use a knife?"

I looked at him curiously for a moment, tonguing my molars but nodded.

It's not like I got better things to do at the moment, and I don't think it's a bad idea that everyone learn how to use their knives properly.

He took out his knife, shifting his complete attention to me.

Oh he means right now— alright, then.

I pulled my own knife and paused, looking at the severe difference between our blades. My 6 inch man slaughterer vs his barely 2 inch switchblade that couldn't be used to mug a teenager half his size, much less kill a walker, or Merlin forbid a trained human being.

I licked my lips, scratching my neck. Mmm… This is gonna be tough.

The way I use knives will never gonna work for that little thing. Now that I think about it, my style is not something I can just teach either. Enough of it relies on my level of reflex.

The way I use 'em requires a certain degree of stealth & body awareness, that doesn't just happen overnight. It takes months —months we don't have— of dedicated practice to train that sort a thing in yourself.

I could teach him the core basics though. That should relatively easy, and maybe a few tricks to get him started. Those should work better for him anyway.

If he does it right, he won't need to know anything fancy like knife throwing, or fighting an opponent with a knife. I assume he wants to use them on walkers.

Maybe farther down the line it'll come in handy to teach how to face off against someone with a blade, but that's a lesson for another day.

For right now though, the beginner's course it is.

I motioned for Rick to follow me, out of the barn and to the treeline, to find a nice practice dummy.

* * *

"Knives are different than what you're used to with a gun. Knives are close quarters weapons, where guns are only effective at 20 feet or more." I twisted the steel blade in my hand. "They extend only as far as you do. And there's a lot of danger that comes with being close in a fight, but if you know what you're doing, it gives you the upper hand."

Rick nodded, listening carefully and watching my hands.

"First things first. There are different kinds of knives and it will affect how you wield them. There are a couple different ways to hold a knife. The most effective depends on which blade you're using. Whether it's long or short will affect how it's used." I demonstrated how most people hold a knife, firmly by the grip, blade straight out.

It's effective for quick stabbing or targeted deep wounds, but not for cutting and not the most effective if it drives through bone. The blade could break, or get stuck and then you've lost your weapon.

"This is my preferred method." I demonstrated. "Blade facing out, braced along the forearm. This makes the attack more difficult to avoid. As well as harder to knock the blade out of hand, and to avoid getting sliced. With this method, you can slice with forward motion" I demonstrated on the tree, cutting a slow clean line into the bark.

"And stab as you come back." I brought my arm back the other direction and imbedded the end of my knife into the bark hard enough to stick.

Rick looked impressed but also looked as if he recognized the move. Not surprising, he might have seen me use it before.

"This isn't effective for most short blades, but the longer ones are twice as dangerous this way and easier to control."

He nodded, scratching his nose for a second but didn't take his attention off the lesson.

"Short blades are meant for stabbing. Quick, decisive strikes. Pinpoint attacks. Aim for the weak soft tissues."

I tapped his stomach with my knuckles. "The gut"

"Arteries" I tapped several arteries in different places of the body; including his thigh, where the femoral artery is located.

"Exposed Tendons and joints when you can get them are the sweet zone for disablement." I lifted his arm and ran my finger in a 'slice' over the muscles that allow you to lift your arm, and again at the inside of his elbow, and gave a quick "slice" to the back of his knee.

"Don't ever underestimate how effective a strike to the knee can be. It disables your target from running, and you'd be surprised how limited movement becomes."

He nodded, eyebrows raising as he thought about it.

"Anywhere on the neck should be your target if you catch it left open. The jugular in particular." I rested two fingers above his collarbone, on the muscle protecting the jugular. "One strike, or puncture of any kind to this area and you'll either bleed out in minutes, be unconscious in a few seconds, or if it ruptures... near immediate death."

Rick nodded, and I motioned to the tree for him to try.

I can see why he was deputy. He's a fast learner. After only a few strikes he's getting the hang out it.

"In a knife fight, don't be afraid to use other parts of your body. A slice across the chest followed through with an elbow to the jaw can put most people on the ground like that." I snapped my fingers.

"Don't underestimate how effective a fast strike between blade attacks can be." I tapped his shoulder and he turned back towards me.

"Stab" I pushed on his solar plexus with my fingers.

"Strike" I dropped the side of my hand in a chopping motion on his jugular.

"Slash" My fingertips dragged across his throat. "A combo is your finishing move. If your opponent isn't down for the count by the end of one, it failed."

He nodded and I motioned to put the knife down and to try on me.

He repeated the same move I just did, but added a stab to the gut on the end.

I hummed, nodding; eyebrows raised. I'm impressed. He's picking it up quick.

"The less resistance, the better. Avoid bone whenever possible." I tapped his sternum, and pressed on another few points where tough bone resides beneath the flesh. "You could chip or even break your blade. Worse case scenario, it gets stuck and you lose your weapon in the struggle."

Rick nodded, "I know. I've seen it."

"A shot to the solar plexus with your fist is more effective than with a blade because it traumatizes the diaphragm, and causes the muscles to seize which could stun your opponent if they don't have exceptional muscle there."

He nodded, understanding and I motioned again. He re-tried his combo and this time if we had been having a real fight, it would have been deadly.

I smirked and gave him a firm pat on the arm with an approving grunt.

"Where you aim will differ between what you're target is. Something alive? All the good stuff from before. Something dead? The temple is your sweet spot." I pressed on the very spot.

"Base of the skull works well too." I found the point where the skull connects to spinal column.

"Eye socket's great, though it's better for longer blades because it squirts and blood makes your grip slick. Your aim should be to make quick, clean kills with as little energy expenditure as possible. It's easy to stand in one place and shoot things, but a knife fight is more physically demanding. You will get tired easier, and the more energy you spend, your chances of winning could free fall in a snap."

"In a tight spot, you can go up through here." I tapped his nose. "Works well for a long screwdriver. Best case scenario you hit it right and bone shards shoot into the skull."

Rick grimaced though he tried to hide it and shifted a little. I can almost hear him thinking, 'I don't even wanna know how she knows that.'

"Avoid the top of the head." I dropped my fist on the top of his head but not hard enough to hurt him. "The cranium is built to take impact. It's a protective case and takes more force than it's worth to get through. And if your blade doesn't break, it'll get stuck no doubt. Unless you're very lucky."

"Makes sense." He nodded again, leaning his weight to one leg as I removed my hand to motion a circle around my lips.

"Avoid the mouth area. Only thing that'll do, is get you bit. And it's not only walker bites that can kill you with that." His brow quirked, in peeked interest.

"The bacteria present in a human mouth, living or dead, could easily pass a life-threatening infection that we no longer have the means to treat. Like flesh eating bacteria. You should avoid mouth shots coming in contact with your bare skin no matter what you're using. Knife, gun, fist, club. You may win the fight, but in the end you'll lose the war."

Rick nodded and finally asked what I suspect as been burning his tongue since the lesson began. "You didn't strike me as the medical type. Where'd you learn all this?"

I shrugged, "Curious person. You pick things up."

"You pick up a lot a thangs." Rick turned back to the tree, practicing a few techniques I displayed and practicing a few combos; mixing and matching, creating his own, tossing in a few famous moves I recognized, and later putting twists on them.

Let it never be said that Rick Grimes is not a capable human being.


	75. Chapter 72

I watched him for a good 20 minutes, leaning against another tree, but as I stood. My mind drifted, as it often does.

There were plenty of opportunities to learn this stuff before. Why now?

Why not before, when we did gun practice, or during the search for our lost lamb.

There's just one thing I can't figure out about that whole ordeal, and it's been eating at the back of my mind for days now.

When Rick & Hershel were bringing those two walkers to the barn. You can see the barn from every corner of the property. Especially from the house.

"Hey"

Rick turned around.

"When you and Hershel were takin' those walkers to the barn. Do you really believe they didn't know she was in there."

Rick leaned his weight on one leg. "I do"

"Why?"

"Because" Rick drawled, in a heavy exhausted tone. "Hershel told me Otis must'a put her in there before he died. I believe him. He has no reason to lie about that, nor was he in the state too."

I put my hands up. "I'm not tryna start a fight. Just trying to get my head around this."

He sighed; visible tension lifting from his shoulders. "Sorry. I know. I been tryna do the same thing."

Are things that bad between him and everyone? That he feels the need to defend his stance in a simple conversation?

I observed him carefully and it was long enough to make him ask, "What?"

Seems Daryl isn't the only one I need to say this to. "I've got your back, Rick."

He looked at me, confounded.

"That won't change, even if I don't agree with everything you do or every decision that's made."

Rick chuckled, and I almost saw the exact moment of relief. Just hearing someone say it. I forget sometimes that not everybody has the same distrust of words that I do.

"You sure have been chatty lately."

It was my turn to chuckle. Because Daryl said the same thing to me before. "Desperate times. Desperate measures."

Rick's smile began to fade as he stared at the crunchy orange leaves on the ground.

So he sees it too. Daryl & I aren't the only ones who see what's happening. What's tracking on this group's horizon.

I took a deep breath, leaning my head back against the tree.

Otis, huh?

I never got to meet the man, but from what I know he was a decent person. Perhaps more so than we are anymore.

He was responsible for Carl's gunshot wound but he's also the reason he's alive.

I can't hate the man for what happened, it was an accident, and he tried to fix it, which is more than I can say for most people. Before or after the turn.

Wait but, that all went down the _day after_ Sophia went missing. If Otis is the one who put her in the barn, that means...

* * *

I made my way towards Daryl at the treeline, where he was adjusting a newly made arrow.

He noticed me as I came up and stood, holding his crossbow in front of his chest with the loaded arrow aimed at the ground. "Have a nice chat?"

Rick and mine's conversation echoed in my head. I nodded.

Daryl looked at me oddly for a moment before jerking his head and we started off into the woods.

I hopped the fence, doing a scan as Daryl hopped over, landing just behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at him and took out my knives.

"S'go" He started forward, watching the ground and I followed, watching around us.

The familiar routine of keeping an eye out while Daryl found tracks brought a sort of solace to the plague I'd taken onto my mind through my own curiosity; my need to understand. Worst part is, it doesn't even matter that I figured out what happened to her.

For once in my life, I'd rather I didn't know.

* * *

Within 10 minutes of the farm leaving sight, we were back to one of the few places that brings me tranquility.

In the deep woods, I felt like I could breathe again. Nothing matters here, except for what's right in front of you. Everything else just fades with the bird song.

It isn't complicated, it isn't cruel, it's just nature. Straightforward, simple. No moralistic debate, no runaway minds to put back on track, no fear to tame. Just me, Daryl, the sunlight through thick leaves that have slowly begun to turn yellow, the distant sound of animals going about what they've always done, and the soft ground beneath our feet.

Nothing has changed in the woods. Nothing's changed in nature. It's all just different life forms & organisms bumping up against one another.

For nature, this plague which has brought mankind to our knees, is simply a new predator atop the food chain. One that, after centuries, has finally managed to dethrone humankind.

Out here, things are simple. I much prefer it out here to a farm where everyone's losing their goddamn minds. Who are one bad argument & one poor decision away from spilling each other's guts.

I know why Daryl wants to leave. I see it more and more clearly every minute we're out here.

The woods are to Daryl, as the night sky is to me. A place where you can hear yourself think. A place that helps you see clearly. Something that reminds you just how small you are compared to the world, but no less or more important than the organisms around you. No matter if you're smarter or stronger, bigger or smaller. A single tree is an entire world, and connected to the trees around it, it becomes a galaxy. Connect those to the forests & streams around them and you get a galaxy. Connect them to every other stream, creature, and forest in the globe and you have a universe. All contained on one tiny rock hurtling through space; basking in the warmth of a star the way a plant drinks the rain.

Maybe… I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to be out here on your own. Daryl & I can both handle ourselves, we clearly have no trouble being alone.

There'd be no drama. No power struggles. No moral debates.

If worse comes to worse, if Daryl really decides to leave… maybe I should too.

I don't like the idea of leaving the others. I don't like the idea of anyone else leaving either, but with the way things are tracking, it's not gonna matter much whether I like it or not.

I don't want the group to split. These people have become a family to me. Family is something I've never known before, but I don't know what to do to stop it.

I tried giving the men in charge a good scolding, and I'd hoped they'd bring things back on track, and it's done them some good from what I've seen but the group's still drifting.

If the others start dividing and a split is on the horizon, I'll have to make a very tough decision. Whether I'm getting out with Daryl before shit goes down, or if I'm gonna wait for the clock to run down; trying to fix something I'm not even sure can be fixed.

I don't know if it's just because I've misunderstood what it means to be a group or not, but the latter option sounds an awful lot like going down with the ship.

I don't know much about family or friends, but Glenn taught me one thing. You don't die for friends, you live for them. And I have most certainly lived for these people since before we left the quarry. To me, they are family, but am I the only one who sees it that way?

I know family's are meant to fight and squabble but they always come back together, no? That's what it's supposed to be like, isn't it?

Whether or not that means I should try to save what's already gone? I don't know. But I'm at least going to try. Even if it's a futile struggle. Because to me, that's what it means to be family _._

A shuffle in the corner of my vision had me stopping, and I tapped Daryl's hunched back. He turned and I pointed at the walker shuffling it's oblivious way towards us.

He nodded at me and I confirmed with a nod of my own before splitting off, going back a few steps and coming around the back side.

I watched for other walkers and spotted two more farther down the way we were headed before I slid my knife up the back of the walkers skull.

I whistled at the other two as the body dropped, and they turned; growling as they spotted me.

They began to stumble my way and I turned around, walking back. I glanced over my shoulder every few seconds until the two were positioned between me and Daryl.

I flipped my knife in my hand and threw it just before a bolt pierced the one closest to me.

My knife sailed through the air, glinting in the sunlight before it went straight into the other walker's forehead before it could even get close to grabbing Daryl. It's head was pulled back with the impact and sent it's lifeless heap, onto it's back in the muddy forest floor.

Daryl glanced behind him at the walker and moved to pull the knife out of its cranium with a gross scraping sound; Like the kind you hear from a grinding two rocks together.

I pulled his arrow out of this one with a crunchy ' _slick_ ' and swiped it off on the walker's grimy ripped shirt which I suspect used to be white.

He swiped my knife off on the other's red jacket before carefully tossing the blade back to me. I caught the steadily thrown blade and spun his arrow like a pen between my fingers as I walked back, before bracing it with two fingers; holding the feathered end out to him.

He reloaded his crossbow as I glanced around again. My eyes settled on the bodies.

"There's been more of 'em lately."

I hummed, glancing at Daryl as he came to stand next to me, looking over the bodies.

"There were hardly any of 'em when we got 'ere. Seems like there's more and more everyday now." Daryl looked around, to make sure we weren't drawing any unwanted attention, or scaring off any game; even though his voice was low as he spoke.

I nodded again, making a small noise of agreement.

Where are they coming from, though? It's not like there's much around here. There's not much for them to eat —not compared to other places. We're miles from the nearest dense population area too.

What could be drawing them out this far?

"It don' sit right." Daryl voiced my thoughts exactly.

I looked around, humming in response.

They came from that way. If we can find out where they're coming from, maybe we can at least figure out how many there are and whether or not we should be concerned.


	76. Chapter 73

I rubbed my nose on the back of my hand, sniffling. It's getting colder. That's gonna be a problem soon.

I don't know exactly what time of year it is, but it's gotta be mid to late Fall by now.

Last year it started snowing in October. If this year is the same, we don't have a lot a time before winter decides to drop in for the holidays. Call me crazy but I don't think flimsy fabric tents will protect us against a snowstorm.

We're either gonna have to work something out with Hershel, or move on; find somewhere to hole up from the cold.

We're gonna need warmer clothes, winter boots, plenty of fuel, stock up on food like we're going into hibernation.

I moved along behind Daryl, but we've been hunting for almost 4 hours now and haven't found anything but more walkers, squirrels (cue shutter), and the highway we were stranded on not too long ago.

Daryl stopped in the middle of the street, looking in both empty directions. Only thing I can see is the carjam we got stuck in before.

I scratched my head, sharing a look with him. This was a waste of time. A nice idea, but ultimately we've just wasted our time.

Only game we've got are those furry vomit peels and I think I'd rather eat my own shoe.

It took me a minute to notice Daryl was staring at the cars, but only because I was looking at them the exact same way.

I clenched my teeth, swallowing hard. I couldn't take looking at them anymore, so I moved my gaze to the street. A rusty penny staring back up at me.

We thought the kids were safe with all of us around, but the truth is, they're not any safer than we are. Our chances of survival are all the same— have been from the start.

The odds are stacked against every single person left on this —literally— Godforsaken rock.

We're stronger together. That much has proven true, but it doesn't mean we're invincible. If the group continues to divide, we're all gonna end up breaking into smaller and smaller groups. What happens then? How many of us will make it?

I know Daryl and I —if I were to go with him— would probably be alright, for awhile at least. But what about the rest?

Most of the adults can handle themselves well enough, but what about Carol? I don't think she even knows how to shoot a moving target. What about Glenn? Would he stick with the Greene's? If we went our separate ways, would I ever see him again?

"Come on. Let's head back. Ain't nothin' out 'ere." Daryl moved past me and I followed in silence.

It took us about half an hour to get back, we got lucky and found a little more game on our way. The tense silence we'd left the road in, faded but the guilt pooling in my gut only grew as we made it back to camp and began skinning and prepping what we'd hauled.

The rest of the day went by in a blur and before I knew it, I'd spent all day with Daryl at his secluded campsite.

Not even the gross smell of cooking squirrel on the fire stirred me.

I can't stop. I can't stop thinking about what Rick and I worked out. My head is spinning listing all the reasons why I shouldn't stay in the group, and half of them are precisely why I have to.

I put my head in my hands, sliding clawed fingers through my hair.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

I glanced at Eve, half expecting her to have that disgusted look on her face. But she didn't, and that made me tense.

She's been quiet all day. Not her usual quiet —this is just, vacant.

She's been acting different since this mornin'. Soon as she got back from whatever she was up to with Rick.

Looked like she'd seen a ghost then. Had the same look when we got to the highway.

She met 'im in the barn. Only thing that connects the barn and the highway is Sophia. Is that why?

No, wait. That's not the only thing. Shane was involved with both. The way she looks at 'im has changed. She's been watching 'im like a hawk.

I couldn't help my curiosity any longer. Eve's been actin' strange towards him for awhile now. It got worse after the barn, after… And I been meanin' to ask 'er about it. Now's as good a time as any. "What's been goin' on with you and Shane?"

I thought she'd work it out and be back to normal, like she always does but it's lingering.

Her gaze shifted to me, head turning from it's hung position.

"You think ain't nobody noticed? You been lookin' at the guy like he's the enemy. Haven't gone near 'im unless you had to since before the highway." Normally I wouldn't a given a shit, but it's Eve. When she's off, it don't sit right. Makes me anxious when she's always on 'er toes like this.

Her jaw shifted before clamping her teeth and directed her gaze at 'er hands. "...I don't trust him."

"I don't trust him neither, don't mean he's gonna attack you."

Eve didn't respond and my eyes narrowed.

Wait.

Does she—? Is she actually expectin' to be attacked?

She sighed, running a hand through her shorter hair, pulling it back over her head, out of her face. And I thought I had trust issues.

"Don't bullshit me, Daryl. I know you've seen it too. He's starting to act like—..." She trailed off, shaking her head at her hands.

"Ma brother?" Her eyes slowly came to meet mine but I didn't read into the look for a change. "Yeah, I seen it. But I ain't the one who fixed to shoot 'im yesterday in front a that barn."

Eve shifted, looking down as if she regrets it, but I get the sense she's ashamed that she don't feel guilty 'bout it.

"It ain't difficult to figure out. Ya tense up every time ya so's much as hear the man's name."

"You been noticin' a lot lately." Her jaw clenched and my eye was drawn to the pulse on 'er neck as it started thumping harder.

"And you been talkin' an awful lot last couple days. Now quit avoidin' the damn question. What's the deal?" My voice was rough but the question didn't come across that way, like it usually does.

She shifted, licking her lips and I stared her down; waitin' for her to give in.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

God damnit, Dixon— that's a _foul._ Using my own fudge-nutting tricks against me.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes with my fingers before my hand settled over my forehead, elbows resting on my knees as those eyes came back to haunt me, like the damn ghost of Christmas past. This time side by side with their doubles from the CDC.

"He reminds me of someone." I swallowed.

I watched blue eyes turn to my shoulder but it took me half a second to realize I had unconsciously rolled it.

It was quiet for a long minute. Just the fire crackling as it chewed on the dead wood tossed into its jaws. Monstrous shadows from the roasting squirrel cast over the ground in the almost faded light of the evening sun.

I don't know if he isn't saying anything because he's run out of questions, because he got his answer, or simply because there's nothing left to say.

The fire crackled, whooshing with the light breeze that swept low under the canopy, crawling over the cooling earth to chill my ankles of all things.

"You think he'll try somethin'?" Daryl looked at me, the atmosphere taking on a heavy serious undertone that wasn't there before. The way he said it… I can't help but feel like he's asking what I see farther down this road that he doesn't.

"You think he won't?" I looked Daryl dead in the eyes. "Look at what he's already done. You and I both remember what he was like when everything first went down. The Shane I knew back then —the one I trusted—… he never would've even considered half the shit he's pulled in recent days."

"It's not a matter of _if_ , anymore. It's _when._ " I glanced back at the fire, watching the flames creep closer and closer to one particular spot on a log.

The fire flickered, morphing the shadows on the ground as I pulled the squirrel stick away before it starts burning and makes me sick to my stomach.

"I honestly don't know what he's gonna do, or how he's gonna do it, but in my experience" my mind wandered back to dangerous places, and I found myself resisting the urge to stretch my neck; to get my head as far from my shoulder as possible. "people who do things like that —without a second thought— are never idle for long."


	77. Chapter 74

Ominous silence festered over the atmosphere as the minutes ticked by. What could happen in the coming days looming over both of us. I pulled my knife into my lap, watching the amber light dance with shadows over the gleaming blade. The gleam that once proved to myself that I could handle anything that came at me, now seeming more & more foreboding of a day when I may have to use it against someone who I once believed had my back.

I remember the Shane Walsh I met on the first exit off that road. The night after they dropped the first bombs in the streets of Atlanta.

The night I met Glenn. One of the most important people in the world to me.

I remember accepting his handshake, despite not trusting him yet. I remember looking at Carl with his mother standing behind the man. I remember seeing Carol with her daughter, and my immediate wariness of Ed.

I remember Shane trusting me to find water even though we'd just met, and bring it back to everyone.

And when Glenn & I returned with Dale, Andrea, and Amy in the RV with that water.

I remember Shane being skeptical but saying he trusted my judgement. I remember being consulted on collecting so many survivors, and finding a place to set up because we both knew we couldn't live on the road forever.

When we found the quarry, the man asking if I thought it was a good place; Weighing the pros & cons together before asking the others.

I remember being sent out for food and coming back with two more mouths when I helped Daryl & Merle and spent two hours leading them around to find stuff and weigh whether or not I could actually trust them.

Shane didn't like it(Merle in particular), but because I had brought them in, he agreed to let them stay. He trusted me, and I trusted him. Not in the way I've grown to trust Daryl. I've never trusted anyone the way I trust the man next to me. But I trusted Shane because he was a good person. I knew he was, and not because he used to have a badge, but because of the way he looked out for everyone.

He reminded me of one of the older boys in the shelter I was a frequent flyer at. Always lookin' out for the kids, keeping the peace, and making sure that when kids fought, they made up because the only people who were really on our side were each other; even though many of us didn't even know one another's names and most of us were trouble.

That was the only shelter I was ever in out of the 3 or so, that felt like I could depend on someone else, even just a little.

I remember deferring to Shane's judgement. Watching his back on the runs he accompanied me & Glenn with when we went to risk finding ammo. I trusted him then.

I trusted him when I found out (in the most unfortunate way) about him and his partner's widow. And I didn't say anything because I trusted he knew what he was doing.

When Rick came back I trusted he would step back, or at the very least stop sleeping with the man's wife.

What happened?

Where did that person go?

How did that dark seed plant itself in his eyes? Where did it start? Why didn't I see it happening? Could I even have stopped it if I had?

Where will it spread from here? Being hurt is one thing, overreacting is another. I recognize that sickness in the mind that bleeds through the eyes in bone-chilling calm rage. But when I first encountered them, I was too young to know exactly what I was looking at. Too young and too scared to wonder If there's a chance he could wipe the fog away and see clearly again. If he knows where the lines are? Or if those are gone for good.

It's one thing to see those eyes on someone supposed to protect you. It's another to see it festering in a friend. Growing like a choking vine and not knowing how to stop it. If it's even possible to do so. Not knowing if you're even capable of seeing clearly through your own fear.

 _Fearing_ a friend. Looking at them and the earth shattering moment when you realize, you don't recognize them.

Wondering if they're even still in there. Lost somewhere in that black behind their eyes. If there's anything left of the person you knew, to save.

I'm used to living in uncertainty, but I haven't felt this uneasy about the future in a long time. And I had hoped— I had promised myself I never would again.

I don't make promises I can't keep though, and I don't intend to start now.

"Not to keep beating a dead horse but… Why do you wanna leave?"

Daryl shifted. A somewhat distant look taking over. "Just do. Have ya seen the state a this group as of late?"

"Yeah" I sighed, but it was heavy. Heavy enough that somehow my chest feels even more weighed down than before.

"They rippin 'emselves apart. I don't want no part of it."

"None?" I looked at him but to be honest… I'm not sure If I was asking him, or myself. He noticed what's coming in the group long before I did. Where I got caught up focusing on Shane, he was looking at the whole picture and watching it fracture.

"Nope. I ain't goin' down with this ship. I don' owe these people nothin'."

I can't argue with that, but I can't say I entirely agree either. Maybe it's just nostalgia holding me back, but I need to know. If I'm actually gonna make this decision, I have to know it's the right one. "What changed?"

"What d'ya mean?"

"You didn't hesitate to help when Soph—… when Sophia went missing. What changed?"

Daryl looked away, glaring down at nothing with pursed lips.

"Sophia wasn't your fault, Daryl." Believe me. There's nothing anyone could have done. Except...me.

I didn't think he was gonna say anything as the silence passed the minute mark and looked down at the knife in my hands, to just let the silence take back over but finally he muttered, "I should'a found 'er."

The moisture began receding from my mouth; my talk with Rick bubbling back like boiling water in my head. "You shouldn't have needed to."

Daryl looked at me, face scrunching. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

I didn't answer and I could almost see the heckles raise as he stood up. "Yer the one who said she was gon' be _fine!_ "

I saw the anger coming. I knew Daryl blamed himself but, we've all been doing the exact same thing. But I didn't know he blames me, too.

" _And I have to live with that!"_ I shot to my feet.

His eyes were still angry but wider as he stepped back; jaw clamped shut.

If I had been in any better state of mind, I might have seen things differently, but in that moment I wasn't. Guilt is a potent thing.

For once in my life, someone else's anger fueled my own; feeding into everything I was already thinking. And I snapped. At him, or with myself, I'm not sure I will ever know.

"You think I don't know what I said!? What I believed?! You think I haven't spent every second since she walked out of that godforsaken gate to Hell wondering how I could have been such a dumbass!? At least you were able to do something!"

Daryl stepped back again as I stepped forward.

"At least you picked up her trail! Found her doll! All _I_ did was get stuck in a hole!" I threw this goddamn knife into the tree and watched it plant itself an inch deep in the bark. "—Wander _aimlessly_ through a forest I know next to nothing about!" I swung my arm back almost painfully.

"Nearly get myself lynched more than _once!_ And for what!? To take away from the search cause I can't keep track a my own ass— much less hers!" My chest heaved, like I'd been running and my muscles were tight like I had but this is far from running.

"This never should've happened in the first place! Safety in numbers and all that BS— but she _wasn't!_ Daryl. She _wasn't_ safe— none of us are!"

"Ya think yer the only one who knows that!?" Daryl's angered flared back up. "You think if we could'a seen that that heard comin' we wouldn't have?! Wake up, _sunshine_! None a us could'a done a _thing_ to help that little girl!"

"Yes we could have!"

" _How!?_ By runnin' off into the forest gettin' everybody killed? Rick firin' his gun and bringing that whole train right back for us!?" He shouted in frustration. At the end of his rope.

" _I was in the forest!_ "

Daryl froze.

Slow and cold, eyes dangerously honed, he stared me down and for maybe the first time ever, it was working the way it did on others. "What."

"While she was running for her life, the rest of us hid while Rick went after her, but I—..." My throat caught around the angry lump trying to strangle me from the inside, and I couldn't look him in the eyes anymore.

"If I had gone back through the forest when I thought to, instead of waiting for the herd to pass… I would've seen her." I hadn't planned on telling him this, I hadn't planned on telling anyone, ever. It was my cross to bear but it just… I couldn't stop. "I could've taken care those walkers in a heartbeat— Rick could've gotten _both_ of them back. She would've been okay." My fists clenched so tight my fingers began to tingle; Grinding my teeth as I glared at the dust on my boots. I could see my own chest shaking with every breath but honest to god I don't know why. Whether it's sorrow, anger, fear, guilt— I don't know. I don't know anymore.

Daryl growled lowly. A twisting lack of any emotion at all in the single word that came out of it. "Where."

I didn't answer. I tried to but I couldn't force my lips to anything more than part. Thinking about that little girl's face the last time I saw her alive. And the last time I saw her period.

"Jesus, I thought you were one a the only people round 'ere that didn't need a babysitter!" I flinched when he swung his arm, even though it was towards camp and not at me, old habits die hard. "Where in the forest were ya!?"

"Close enough I could have gone back." I tried to speak louder but the only volume I could achieve was barely above a mumble.

* * *

 **3rd person POV**

"Rick did everything he could to save her, you did everything you could to find her, but I could have done something to stop it altogether and I _didn't_."

Daryl was quiet, stood unnaturally still in front of one of the only people left in the world he trusted. While she admitted perhaps the biggest mistake of her life. A mistake that led to the brutal death of a little girl they all cared for.

"If i'd just gone back—…" Eve rubbed her frustrated, aching eyes hard enough to see spots; she didn't have the right to cry though she wanted to so badly it physically hurt. "Instead she _died_ out there; alone and scared."

When her vision blurred though, she didn't bother trying to hide the angry tears stinging every atom of her glossing eyes. No amount of tears however could have filled the chasm in the three words that had been burning her alive from the inside out since she figured out she was _the only_ person in the entire group who could have stopped it all from happening.

" _That's on me._ "


	78. Chapter 75

Eve's back touched the tree. Her head resting right beside the blade stuck at eye level in the trunk, as she slid down.

Her boots slid in the dirt until she on the ground. Her muddy soles almost touching the stones around the firepit as her knees lined up with her shoulders.

Daryl grit his teeth, glaring at the dirt.

He knew she'd almost died out there. He had too. A lot of 'em almost bit the dust for it.

They did it cuz they thought—...Daryl kept telling himself the whole time that if they found 'er, it'd all be worth it.

It was dumb. It was dumb of them both to think that way. For the others, maybe not but for them two of all people to fall into the 'hope' trap?

They both should'a known better, and they knew it.

Neither of them wanted to though. They just wanted something to go right for a change. But fate is not inclined to give favors.

Daryl looked at the dying fire at his feet and couldn't help a small part of him linking it to the woman sat against the tree.

She's good at hiding it —downright lies about it sometimes—, but nothing can be truly hidden forever. They both thought they were gonna find 'er.

It's been days. They should be over this by now. They got bigger things to worry about.

As unfortunate as it may be, they were both keenly aware that just because the world flipped on its head doesn't mean the way people handle grief does.

For survival, your brain can tuck just about anything away. But it's the quiet moments where it creeps back in. The times you're allowed to think, no matter how much you don't want to.

Eve regret letting her curiosity get the better of her. Something she never thought she'd experience. Asking questions had always been her saving her grace, had always allowed her to come to terms with anything that was thrown at her.

Not this time.

Maybe curiosity isn't as good as it used to be. Some things are better left where they lie. Some details are best left unknown. Like a magic trick.

Knowing the trick is fun and all, but it ruins it for you. All the wonder it once brought is gone, never to return.

Eve always thought she was the kinda person who wanted to know the trick so she could give that wonder to others. But this is more like a sick joke.

She couldn't even ask what they'd done to deserve this because she knew. Pick up any human history book and the evidence is all there. They destroyed this planet, can you blame it for finally fighting back?

Daryl sank down in front of Eve. Her boot almost touching his knee.

He vaguely noticed her black jeans had ripped at her knee, as she shifted, taking off her jacket.

She tossed the offending object to the ground beside her; almost getting one of the sleeves in the fire.

It was a little weird to see any of her skin aside from the neck up & her hands, when she's clad in her hunting gear.

Eve is so unconsciously wary of her shoulder that most often she doesn't take off her jacket in the presence of others but right now it just itched.

Her shoulder was burning like that sizzling fire and she scratched it by rolling her shoulder against the tree but winced when her ribs pulled a certain way. She forgot those weren't fully healed yet.

In the midst of everything that's gone down, she actually forgot she was still healing. Or maybe she was deliberately ignoring it all this time.

She didn't want to think about the bruises that were still there on her back, so she had pushed herself to focus on pretty much everything except herself.

The problem with that is, eventually you run out of distractions.

Daryl noticed the way she winced and the reflexive curling of her hand towards her side, only because he was already looking at 'er.

His own side still ached a little when he twisted. Eve had taken more of a beating externally, wheras he'd taken more of a pounding internally but comparing who took more of a hit was pointless. It was undeniable they'd both been through Hell on this near mindless crusade, and neglected to look after themselves.

If they hadn't been looking out for each other, one or both of 'em might have actually bit it.

Worst part was, they both knew that too.

He saw the oil paint-like bruises _days_ after she fell from the tree, and her dumb ass was still goin' out.

She knew he hadn't told 'er the whole story when she was with him the night after impaling himself with his own bow. That it was a lot worse than he let on.

He saw the little cuts & scrapes, and how she dragged herself when she came back every time she left this jinxed ass farm. How she worked herself to exhaustion, and neglected her own wellbeing when she was back in camp.

It don't take a genius to know why she almost died out there. To see she was being more reckless than usual.

You don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out he was in worse shape than he said. That an impalement like that doesn't heal in a day— even a couple days.

An injury like his takes weeks to heal. Her internal injuries(ribs) ironically take about the same amount of time. Longer now that both of them had been pushing their physical limits for days.

He knows she didn't sleep much, because he didn't either. He saw her that night she scrambled outta 'er tent like it was on fire and sat in the dirt; Just starin' up at the sky, all night.

"You know what the worst part is…?"

Daryl looked at the woman beside him, coming out of his thoughts to realize he'd moved next to her, like he was on autopilot.

"The Greene's didn't know she was in there."

His eyebrows knit together.

"Odis died that second day of our search. When Carl got shot." Eve stared ahead. The orange-lit features of her face, blank and hollow.

"If he truly was the one who put Sophia in the barn… that means she didn't make it a single night on 'er own."

Daryl's shoulders dropped; realizing what Eve already knew. What she'd been carrying on her shoulders all day. A bitter truth she spared everyone else from knowing. Even Rick when she put the pieces together after their conversation.

"She died less than 24 hours after we lost her."

Daryl thought he'd felt like he'd been punched in the gut before. That it couldn't get worse. He was wrong. No matter how bad something gets, it can _always_ get worse.

"The second she veered off path back into the woods, she was already gone. Beyond our help." Eve paused, her mind's eye going back to that telltale fork in wood-bound trail, that sealed a little girl's fate.

"Absolutely nothing we did since, would'a made _any_ difference. Too little, too late..." She trailed off.

Silence which had once been their friend and a harbinger of companionship, was beginning to turn itself into the enemy.

It festered around them hanging like some dark cloud. But after everything that had happened, all the truths that had come to light, everything they'd done, and everything they'd sacrificed or had let be taken away from them, Daryl was not willing to let this.

This was the one thing that had kept him sane through all these months —especially when his brother wasn't around.

This was the one thing— Eve was the one thing that could make him & everyone else smile, after all this shit.

She was the one thing that never changed, that he could count on, and she's being pulled down with the rest a them.

He couldn't accept that.

If he has to live in this world and make nice, so does she.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

"Yeah. You could'a gone back, and maybe that would'a changed things but you know what, you ain't the only person 'ere who can kill a walker without a gun."

Eve looked at me, somewhat startled at the sudden outburst after the long quiet.

"Truth is, ain't nobody here is to blame." It made my teeth grind not having admitted this sooner. That it took all a this dramatic bullshit to accept it. "It ain't nobody's fault. We did everythin' we could for that little girl, but sometimes there ain't nothin' you _can_ do."

"Blamin' ourselves ain't gonna do nobody any good. It ain't gonna change what happened. It ain't gon' bring 'er back. It's a waste a time."

"Shit happens. We don' gotta like it. It's just the way it is."

Eve looked down at her hands, and I watched the gears in 'er head turn.

I nudged her with my shoulder and waited till she looked at me. It's weird seein' sadness in amber but the rest a her face said she knew exactly the point I was tryna make.

You can be whatever you need to be, but you can't get stuck, or we'll end up just like 'er.

Eve grit her teeth and swallowed, closing her eyes but nodded.

I never thought I'd see Eve cry without tryna hide it, but that's what she did.

She cried, buried her eyes in her knees, and I just sat there. Not knowing what to do. Somewhere down the line, I awkwardly put my hand on her shoulder but she didn't do nothin'. Didn't shake it off, didn't jump like normal; so I left it there.

When ten minutes almost exactly(not that I could actually tell seein' as I don' have a clock or nothin) had elapsed she sniffled, raising her head up.

She wiped her nose on the back of her hand, swiping the salt water off her cheeks, swallowed, and breathed deep through her nose several times.

It's almost like what she does after a panic attack.

I watched her exhausted shoulders & chest fall with the deepest sigh I've ever seen. "It's time to let go."


	79. Chapter 76

**Eve's POV**

It felt weird. Crying.

I haven't cried in such a long time. I almost forgot what it felt like.

More importantly, I forgot how it unties the knots inside.

I rubbed my dry eyes, taking slow deep breaths as everything that had been boiling over was finally gone.

"Sorry" I muttered, feeling a little uncomfortable warmth in my puffy cheeks after my sudden meltdown.

"What you got to be sorry for?" I don't even know anymore.

My shoulders barely lifted while I shook my head, and that's when I noticed his hand still on my shoulder. Seems he noticed too because I watched him glance at it before he removed it, turning away from me slightly.

I'm too tired to think too much into that, and found myself picking up a stick, burning the end of it.

Daryl picked up a couple small sticks as well, from his other side, tossing them into the fire and keeping one long one to burn the end of like I was.

Well this is different. Haven't had an awkward silence between us for a long time. Awkward enough that Daryl cleared his throat. Twice.

I almost thought I was missing something, some hint, but when I shifted to kinda get up, he stiffened. So I let one knee down to rest on the ground, tucking the rest of my leg under the other which is still up at my shoulder, and he seemed to relax again.

So I take it that means he doesn't want me to leave. Then what am I missing here? Why is it so awkward?

Does he feel awkward or am I just crazy?

I snuck a glance at Daryl and quickly directed my eyes back at my shoes when he looked at me.

Am I over analyzing this? I'm over analyzing this aren't I?

Ohhh I don't handle awkward well. Am I actually sweating? I feel like a twinkly teenager what is wrong with me? It's just an awkward silence, after an awkward moment, spawned by an embarrassing meltdown, following an intense argument.

It was my turn to swallow, clearing my throat a little. I took my stick out of the fire, blowing lightly on the end and put it to the dirt, starting the beginnings of complicated swirls in the loose dirt.

Ugh why is this so uncomfortable!? It's just Daryl.

I know neither of us do super well with physical contact but it was just a touch on the shoulder —there wasn't even any skin contact! And it didn't feel weird or uncomfortable when it was there, why is it so awkward now that it's gone?

Should I just leave? It's dark anyway and I gotta go sleep at some point tonight. Yeah, maybe I should just go.

I almost shifted to get up again but stopped.

Won't it be even more awkward if I just up and left?

Daryl's shoulder brushed mine as he shifted and I glanced over.

Why does he look so calm? Is it really just me over thinking?

I didn't realize I was staring at him until he spoke, tapping my shoe with his charred stick.

"What are those?"

What's wha—? I met blue eyes before I looked at my shoe, tilting my leg to see the thick lines carved in the side of the sole of my left boot.

A small part of me was grateful for the distraction but never in my lifetime did I think I'd forget about these. Hell I haven't been in the system for how many years? and I still put 'em on my boots when I got these years ago.

9 lines, carved into the side of my black sole.

My fingers grazed over the marks before I even realized I'd reached for them. "9 homes"

Floods of bittersweet memories from each one poured through my overworked head but the memories didn't bring the same sort of hurt they used to. Truth be told, sitting here now, it almost feels like it happened to a different person.

Like a movie, I remember most of it, but I don't remember how it felt.

I've put a lot of distance between me and those days.

"Were they all..." I looked over as he trailed off and watched him half shrug. "You know…?"

"Bad?"

He nodded, offsetting his jaw a little as he chew on the skin of his bottom lip. Something I've noticed he does when he's curious.

"Pretty much" I leaned my head back against the tree, looking up. "Some were worse than others but only one was anywhere near decent. On the bright side at least I got over my fear of the dark. On the dark side, it just transferred to confined spaces." I looked at the fire, trying not to think about it too much.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why d'ya get claustrophobic?"

"Ah" I licked my lips. This is a fun story. "When I was about 7, I was —like I said— scared of the dark."

"I was livin' in this house that already had bio kids of their own. Two of the older boys —teenagers— and they didn't like having another kid in the house. So when their parents went out one weekend, I think for their anniversary, they decided to lock me in the shed behind the house. Cheese brains left me there overnight."

I saw Daryl try to hold back a smirk at my creative insult.

"It was a tiny thing, maybe 3 feet wide, 4 feet long, and stacked floor to ceiling with yardwork stuff, tools, shed stuff."

"There was a storm that night. I don't know if it was a bad one or just a normal storm, but I remember it shaking the entire shed. Rickety as it was. I never liked storms before that."

"Why would ya after? Don't that make it worse?"

"I thought so too for the first hour or so, but...it was the only thing that broke up the darkness. It was the only sense of time I had. The lightning flashes gave me a second or two of light." I rubbed my hand on my knee. I can almost feel the dust on my hands.

"I don't know maybe it was exposure therapy or somethin' but it was… comforting. Made me feel okay to be alone. You couldn't smell the dust or the metal rusting, through the rain. Felt like I could breathe again."

Daryl nodded beside me, looking out at the forest line like he understood. Who knows, maybe he does. I haven't heard anything about his childhood.

"The thunder filled the silence, which probably would've made sitting in the dark worse."

"You, not okay with silence?"

I rolled my eyes, bumping his shoulder with mine but smiled. And don't you think I didn't notice that little lip quirk, Dixon.

"What happened after?" he passed me his burned stick as I broke mine in the middle of my dirt drawing.

I shrugged, "By the time the storm passed, I'd gotten used to it. The ease back into darkness was a little rough but even that faded when everything was kinda damp. Not as stuffy as before."

"You know, that's probably one of the only times in my life I've felt okay in a small space. Without the light and dust, I could pretend I was out in the open. I think I pretended I was sitting on a tree branch or something. Waiting out a storm so I could run home to a warm house. Mom and dad waiting for me. Wondering why I'd been playing out in the rain."

I haven't thought about that in a long time. I wonder when it was I gave up on those fantasies? Pretending I had a warm family waiting for me somewhere.

"Weren't ya cold at all?" He found another stick to burn in the slow dying embers of the fire that's no longer producing flames.

"By morning I was fine." I shook my head, finally noticing my buns had started to fall asleep from sitting too long.

"I even liked the dark more than the light after that." I chuckled. "I used to stay up late, just to wander around the house at night, in the darkness."

"Why?" Daryl looked at me, amused but confused (hey that rhymed).

I shrugged. "I don't really know, actually. I think it was just, a peace of mind thing. The dark made me feel safe. Still does, to be honest."

He nodded like he understood again. This time pulling his stick out of the fire pit and just staring at it, blowing a little.

"Kinda funny." he muttered.

I raised a brow.

"Started out as a sick joke on a kid, turned into jump scares for everybody you met since."

I smiled. I gotta admit I do see the irony. "Actually I uh… I got yelled at for being noisy at night in my next 2 houses. So I got quieter and quieter, till no one could even tell I was there. At some point It sorta carried over into daylight hours."

"You know I used to raid the house when everyone was asleep." I licked my top lip as a bigger smile broke out; reconnecting with 7-9 year old me.

"What for?" Daryl shifted, ready to be amused with the mischievous smile on my face.

"Looking through stuff people would get angry about if they knew. Looking for sugar most of the time actually." I scratched my neck and Daryl snorted.

"Why don't that surprise me?"

"I think it started as curiosity. I always liked knowing things other people didn't, or didn't want me to know. But I got really good at finding things nobody wanted found. And on the flipside, hiding stuff was a lot easier."

"When the other kids made me mad —which was all the time, cause kids— I'd hide their shit after they were asleep. I'm not sure they found all of it, actually."

Daryl stared at me for a flat second before he tried so hard not to laugh.

I bumped his arm with my elbow while he tried to stop but I laughed too.

It's good to hear him laugh. I admit it feels just a tad bit strange cause I'm not used to seeing this much emotion that isn't anger from him, but it is still.

It feels like it's been forever since I've— we've actually laughed like this.

"Come to think of it, maybe that's why I never had friends."

"Never?" Daryl calmed down from this bizzare giggle fit between us.

I shook my head. "Closest thing I ever had to friends were coworkers who didn't _dislike_ me. Feels weird."

"What does?"

"Having friends. Telling life stories. I never felt the need to share anything 'bout my life before. I kinda wanted to forget it all at some point."

"What changed?" Daryl tossed his stick.

A long second passed but after that second was up, I did in fact find a reason.

I turned, looking that reason in the eyes. "I found someone I trust."


	80. Chapter 77

**3rd Person POV**

"Why me?" It's about time he got an answer to this question. "I ain't exactly sunshine and rainbows."

Eve looked at him, blinking in surprise. "True but if you were listening, you'd remember I said, _I like the dark."_

Daryl blinked, and an amused smile parted the woman's lips before contentment took its place. "I don't really know why. It was just kinda… there, one day."

Daryl could understand that. The same had happened to him.

He remembers just looking at 'er one day and realizing he trusted 'er(more like their dynamic was pointed out by a 3rd party, and he put the pieces together later).

"As hotheaded as you can be—" Daryl's eye twitched but he couldn't deny it, because he knew it was true. "—you're honest."

That took him by surprise. He'd never thought of himself as honest before.

"You don't try to hide stuff. I mean as far as I can tell." Eve eyed him with playful suspicion, and earned herself an eye roll and shoulder knock.

"Maybe that's why." A thoughtful look crossed her face, pursing her lips. "I never have liked being out of the loop, or things being kept from me. Secrets."

"Yeah you ain't too good at keepin 'em. As soon as ya open your mouth it's out." Daryl snorted at the whack on the arm. But he had a point.

Eve doesn't open her mouth often but when she does, ohhhh lordie-poo. And here she thought she was a vault.

Turns out it's really easy to keep a secret when you don't talk to anyone but as soon as someone's listening, there goes the floodgate.

She's gotta work on that.

Fire light glinted off amber eyes; never having looked more aflame than now, when she stares into a fire with a smile. But it was a warm flame. The kind that doesn't burn, yet keeps you from freezing.

Eve yawned, stretching stiff shoulders as she stood; trying to restore blood flow to pretty much her entire lower body.

"Should get some sleep." Daryl stood, wiping the dust from his hands on his jeans.

Eve nodded in wholehearted agreement, trying to stifle another yawn. She was beat. It's amazing how exhausting emotions are. Feeling stuff really takes its toll.

"Night, Eve" Daryl went to his tent as Eve started her trek back to camp

"Night, Daryl" Eve gave a halfhearted wave, stepping over uneven ground, as they parted ways for the night.

To some it may have seemed abrupt or felt off but for them, the interaction felt natural; on it's way to becoming something of a routine in recent days.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

I woke up the next morning and as usual, had trouble pulling myself out of bed. But eventually I managed to wrangle my half-asleep mind into auto-pilot.

Getting up, putting on my shoes, tying back my rats nest of a mane, and went out into the morning sunlight, rubbing my tired eyes with a yawn.

Thank goodness Carol & Lori haven't started cooking breakfast yet, because if I smelled those eggs —or anything else those goddesses throw in a pan— before my run, I would not be able to make myself do it before eating.

And running on a full stomach is not the greatest idea. I learned that lesson the hard way a long, _long_ time ago.

I stretched, warming up, and did 3 or 4 laps around the farm before others started peeling themselves from their cozy tents and getting up for the day, but my endurance is much lower than it used to be.

I don't remember why I stopped running but it feels nice to get back into the routine.

However, I think I'm going to switch to running at night. Because 1) it's too early for this. 2) Dragging myself out of bed is harder than I remember. And 3) exhausting myself before the day even begins seems counter intuitive. Tiring myself out before sleep instead of after, seems like a better idea.

It's a bit of a bummer realizing how rusty I've gotten in such a short amount of time. I didn't think you get rusty at running but apparently it's possible. That or I'm still half asleep. Which is entirely possible.

It's coming back quick though, so I guess I'll just have to be patient and stick it out before I can push myself like I used to.

Which reminds me, I should see if I can find a way to practice MMA again.

I mean, I use it all the time to take walkers down but I'm always using knives or kill moves.

I haven't used it on a living, cognitively functioning person in a long time.

I don't want to get used to my opponent's moves being predictable and then not being able to disarm someone, much less without killing them.

Ideally I'd like a sparring partner but no one else here knows martial arts of any kind, from what I know.

The officers might be my best bet there, they probably know some sort of physical combat. They were law enforcement. I could try my luck but Rick's pretty busy these days, and I don't think I could keep it to just sparring if I asked Shane.

Maybe a few weeks ago I could have, but not now. I don't fancy having another panic attack, and let's be honest, I could hurt someone if I'm armed with so much as a stick, in that state.

For now I might be able to just practice on my own. Starting with the strength training I used to do. I can probably pick up from where I left off. I know I haven't lost my muscle mass. If anything, I've gained some.

It's my lungs that seem to have fallen behind. They need to get used to working hard again so I don't run out of breath so quick.

The smell of food caught my nostrils and my eyes drew straight to camp. I can't see who all is up yet, but that is definitely Carol by the smoking fire, and if I'm not mistaken that's Glenn by the tree, eating something.

My stomach grumbled as I licked my lips, my foot already moving to take me that way but I stopped myself mid-step.

No. Strength training first, then I can eat.

Another lung full of the sweet smell of food made my mouth water.

Oh gosh, this is gonna be hard.

* * *

The rest of the week went by quick, with pretty much the same routine I'd laid out for myself.

I woke up, did my strength training to grant myself food (glorious food~), then hung out with Carl for a bit while Lori did stuff, then Daryl & I went hunting, brought something back for dinner. Camp drama declined a little but we (or should I say they) still got on each other's nerves like annoying neighbors. I spent most of my time avoiding all that, talking or sitting in comfortable late at night with Daryl. Took my run, and dropped like the dead to sleep. Cue cycle repeat.

Dare I say, the boring routine was bliss.

Pure bliss.

I've missed boring routines so much I could cry. But nothing lasts forever, and today it came to an unfortunate end.

I've had a bad feeling ever since I woke up this morning, and finding out Rick & Shane have already taken Randall out, to cut him loose didn't help.

"Jesus will ya sit down already." Daryl grabbed my elbow from the porch railing where he sat, and I stumbled as he pulled me down into the chair next to his knee.

Carl snickered from where he was playing chess with Glenn at the small round table a few feet from us, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"What are you so worked up about anyway?" Glenn readjusted his cap, glancing over from the board.

I shook my head as my leg started bouncing, my fingers drumming on the chair arm; much to Daryl's annoyance.

I don't even know, myself. Something just feels… off, today.

I chewed on my lip, taking a passing glance over the chessboard. "Check"

"Wha?" Glenn breathed, scrunching his face before double taking at the board.

Carl smiled that cheeky evil grin he's been mastering and Daryl scoffed under his breath; messing with his crossbow.

Anxiety ran rampant as I turned my eyes towards the edge of the property.

"How did you do that?" Glenn finally found the trap Carl's been setting for the last 6 moves.

The kid giggled mischievously, refusing to tell and I fist bumped him, with my own proud smirk.

I don't know where the kid learned to play so well but you just got served by a 10 year old, Ace.

"Oh haha" Glenn rolled his eyes, sporting a salty smile, and got up. "Let's see you play him."

That's not a bad idea actually. I need a distraction.

I traded seats with Glenn as Carl reset the board, and spun it so I could play black; Or in this case silver.

I gestured for him to make the first move, letting my chin rest in my palm, and the game begun.

Within four moves, I placed my bishop on a4 (or Bishop to Rook's 5) and announced, "Checkmate"

I laughed at the state of pure slack-jawed shock from both Glenn & Carl. And this time, I leaned over to fist bump Daryl, who held his knuckles out.

Carl got competitive and we played four more times. The longest game lasting about half an hour. Glenn played me twice before he switched back with Carl, and Dale came over at one point to watch.

I semi-taught Glenn & Carl a few strategies that I myself was taught by Jackson; The kid two grades above me in school, who taught me how to play chess when I was a little younger than Carl is now.

We used to play at lunch in the cafeteria sometimes, but usually he came to the house to hang out with the older boys.

Unlike Jackson the Jerk who never _once_ let me win when I was a kid, I let— helped, Carl win the final round by not letting him make silly mistakes.

I took my first chess win against JTJ by force, when I was in high school. So I guess it worked out in the end.

There isn't much time for playing chess nowadays, but I have a different lesson to teach Carl than Jackson did for me.

"Checkmate!" Carl beamed like the sun, shooting up from his seat in triumph.

I held my hand out over the board, like at the end of every round we've played and humbly accepted defeat with a handshake.

Seems my work here is done, because I found no trace of smugness in Carl's excitement after he shook my hand and got up, running into the house shouting, "Mom! Mom! I beat Eve!"

Daryl & Dale both smirked knowingly at me.

"You could have moved your bishop there and beat him like 4 moves ago." Glenn pointed at the board with a confused suspicious smile.

I smiled, shrugging like and laced my fingers together behind my head.

"Yes. She could have." Dale pat Glenn on the shoulder as he got up and wandered back to camp.

I pulled the deck of cards from my pocket as T-Dog roamed up with a lazy "Sup".

I shook the cards, raising an inviting eyebrow at the 3 left on the porch with me and Daryl scoffed, coming off the railing to take up a seat between me & Glenn.

"Blackjack or poker. We ain't playin' go fish."

Glenn & T looked between us with confused laughs and I just smiled, taking the deck out and shuffled all fancy-like before dealing.


	81. Chapter 78

When Rick & Shane finally came back, it was late.

They were bloody, exhausted, and Randall still in the car; duct taped in the trunk.

Seems my persistent bad feeling wasn't misplaced afterall.

Rick got out of the car looking like all he wants to do is drift back into his coma.

He looked at me and Daryl, while I glanced through the back windshield at the kid. I can't tell if he's asleep or not.

"Get him back into the shed."

Daryl & I nodded simultaneously, and I opened the trunk for Daryl to pull Randall from the vehicle; after cutting the duct tape on his legs of course.

I slammed the trunk, and a whistle had me turning. I caught the flashlight T-Dog tossed, nodding in thanks, and let Daryl handle Randall while I lit the way back to his...unfortunate dwelling.

I don't like doing this to the kid but I can't deny he's a danger. For now this is the only viable option we've got, and it's better than being dead.

I hope he can hold on.

I handcuffed him inside again and Daryl stalked out right away, heading back up to the house.

I went to follow him but as I was closing the door, a bottle near the door caught my attention.

It's one of ours.

I picked up the plastic water bottle. It's still half full.

I glanced at Daryl's back. He hasn't noticed I'm not following yet.

I chewed my lip for a moment before slipping back inside.

I unscrewed the cap and crouched in front of the kid, holding the bottle up.

He looked back and forth between me and the bottle. I sighed, taking a small sip before holding it back up to his mouth and used my eyebrows more than anything to tell him to drink it.

I can't say when the next time he'll get a drink will be, but at least this will help.

I waited until he'd chugged the whole thing but I heard boots then, "Eve! Let's go! What are you doin'?"

I fled the shed, seeing Daryl coming back and I hid the water bottle behind my back, subtly dropping it back where I found it.

"What were ya doin'?" he glanced at the shed door.

I put on a sheepish smile as I held up the padlock for the door and motioned to the shed.

"You left the lock inside"

I locked the chain and scratched my neck.

He watched me with skeptical eyes but I motioned at the house and started walking. I watched him give one more lingering glance at the shed before moving to catch up with me.

Don't ask me why I felt the need to hide the fact I gave the kid some water but this whole situation has already gotten so much more complicated than it needs to be, I don't want to trudge up any more antimosty over the stupidest things.

I don't think Daryl would care now that I think about it but still. I guess some part of me just doesn't wanna risk another fight. And it's not like it'll hurt anyone keeping this to myself.

When we got back up to the house, Glenn filled us in on what we'd missed.

According to Rick, this whole thing blew up in their faces the minute they left the kid in a school parking lot.

I didn't think there was a school other than the high school within 18 miles of this farm, and I thought we agreed over the week that they'd take him 18 miles out and leave him, but knowing Rick, that plan may have changed while they were on the road.

I hope that's the case to be honest. It'd be good to know he still has a conscience despite presiding over Randall's life right now.

As for why they brought him back? Randall claims he went to school with Maggie.

He knows where the farm is, he knows who her dad is, her family, everything.

Oh and did I mention Rick has been watching Shane like a hawk since they got back? They both seem to be even more on edge with one another.

Something tells me they didn't give us the whole story about what happened out there today— Hell it was hardly even a synopsis.

This just gets better and better doesn't it?

A deep sigh whooshed out my nose as I rubbed aching eyes with my fingers.

And the worst part? That bad feeling in my gut hasn't dissipated in the slightest. If anything this sinking feeling is getting even worse, and I don't even know what's causing it much less what to do about it.

* * *

 **3rd Person POV**

Early rays of dust beamed sunlight streaming through the cracks in the old wooden plank walls of the old shed.

Eve stood in the corner of the small structure, watching Daryl punch Randall for the 8th time. This time knocking him off the chair the kid was sat on.

Randall cried out as his shoulder took most of the impact, and twice more with each of Daryl's following fists to his near pulverized face.

"I told you" Randall rasped desperately.

"You told me shit!" Daryl grabbed him by the shirt, ramming him against the wall as he harshly sat the young adult up.

"I barely knew those guys. I met 'em on the road" Randall was desperate, trying to cooperate without betraying his old group; in the event they roll through here and rescue him he didn't want to be seen as a traitor.

But the man who'd been beating him since he was harshly awoken this morning, has a way of getting answers sooner or later. And Randall honestly was starting to question whether it was worth protecting the people who left him behind at this point.

In the end, he didn't fancy staying here either. Not like this.

"How many in your group?" Daryl stalked in the room, pacing back and forth in the small open space between the table which Eve was beside, and Randall on the ground propped up against the right wall.

Randall sputtered for breath, rolling his head on the wall. He can't give up anything. If those guys come through here and find out he talked, they'll kill him first.

Daryl's eye twitched as he reached for his side. Randall's eyes grew wide, locked onto the hunting knife Daryl slowly pulled from its sheath.

"No no no no no no no no no. Come on, man."

Randall yelped as Daryl lunged forward, slamming the knife into the floor right between Randall's knees.

"How many!?"

"UH, 30" Randall finally yelled. "30. 30 guys."

"Where?" Daryl growled.

"Uh..." Randall looked down for a fraction of a second too long for Daryl's liking.

Randall screamed as the bandage over his knee was ripped off.

"I don't know. I swear" he shouted through grit teeth. "We were never any place more than a night"

"Scoutin'?" Daryl slid the tip of his knife into the edge of the destroyed flesh. "Plannin' on stayin local?"

"I— I don't know. They— they left me behind" Randall's voice became more desperate and pleading by the minute. Any hope he had of getting out of this, long gone.

"Did you ever pick off a scab?" Daryl turned Randall's leg, sliding the knife along the seam of slowly healing skin.

"Come on, man! I'm— I'm tryna cooperate." Randall honest to god could not answer the man's questions if he wanted to. He couldn't think, and the anticipation of pain was almost worse than it actually happening.

It hurt so bad. He just wanted it to stop.

"Start real slow at first."

Randall grunted, trying his best not to cry out again at the painfully tight grip the man had on his calf.

"Sooner or later you just gotta rip it off"

"Okay!" Randall jolted against the wall with the force of his shout.

"Okay. okay. They— they— they have weapons." Randall stammered out. "Heavy stuff, automatics."

"But I didn't do anything" Randall grit his teeth again, his shoulders knocking against the wall as he squirmed, failing all pitiful attempts to move his leg at all, much less away from the man crouched over his feet in front of him.

"Your boys shot at my boys. Tried to take this farm." Daryl growled, anger eyes fixed on Randall. "You just went along for the ride. Yer tryna tell me yer innocent?"

"Yes!" Randall yelled, heavy breaths coming rapid and labored. "These— these people took me in."

"Not just guys a— a whole group of 'em." He rambled on. "Men and women, uh— kids too, just like you people. Thought I'd have a better chance with them, you know."

"But uh, we'd go out. Scavenge. Just the men."

"One night, we found this little campsite" Randall breathed heavily, trying to swallow the taste of blood in his mouth, and reign in the fear over his mind to recall the event. "A man and his two daughters— teenagers, you know?"

"Real young." He looked at his scuffed, bloody boots. Before dragging them up to the tormentor who'd returned to pacing at his feet. "Real cute."

The atmosphere changed in a single heartbeat.

Daryl could feel Eve tense; recalling the story of the girl in the foster home she'd told him about.

Flashes of the older girl drowning in her own tears in Eve's young arms, brought a tension to Eve's muscles she has not felt in a long, long time, and her core tightened so hard she could've puked or deflected bullets off the rigid muscle.

The slow manner in which the two dangerous people before Randall turned, was excruciating, and set every single hair on his body standing on end.

Two sets of lethally calm eyes moved over the room tracking right to the bleeding man, fixating like predators.

If he was scared before, his mind wouldn't even let him think about what was coming.

"Their daddy had to watch while these guys— they—" Sheer terror spurred his nervous mouth on, no matter how much his brain told him to shut up for his own sake.

"And they didn't even kill him afterwards." Randall shook his head. "They just — they just made him watch. His daughters—..."

Against his better instinct, Randall was pulled into the memory. Unaware his far off gaze had fixed near the door. "Just— just— just left 'em there."

Evelyn's boot shifting snapped him back and his eyes immediately flicked back to Daryl. His head violently shaking back and forth, the scraping of his head against the wood being the least of his problems, when he saw the way Daryl was looking at him.

"No, but-but— but I didn't touch those girls. No, I swear I didn't to—"

Daryl's leg whipped back and slammed into the side of Randall's knee and he screamed, falling onto his side again.

Stammering "Please" over and over.

"You gotta believe me, man." Randall muttered, crying. "I'm not like that."

"I ain't like that" Randall couldn't stop it anymore. He'd finally reached the point where it hurt too much and he was too scared not to cry. "Please, please. You gotta believe me"

Randall screamed as another fullforce kick landed on his knee.

Daryl's arm whipped back, aiming for Randall's face but he almost stumbled when his arm was caught at the elbow.

He swung around, furious eyes coming level with intense amber.

Evelyn stared him down, waiting until the pure rage faded even a little, and shook her head.

She jerked her head at the door, and Daryl went rigid, glaring back at Randall.

Eve squeezed his shoulder and he stormed out; knowing she would not give him a third warning. As fuming as he was, he still remembers the decking Merle got and didn't fancy getting one himself.

Daryl waited outside, cooling off by jabbing his knife repeatedly into anything nearby. The tree, the side of the shed, the dirt.

As soon as Daryl was gone, Eve turned to Randall.

Randall couldn't breathe. He hadn't given much thought to the woman in the corner with the man beating on him but at that moment, he knew what it truly meant to fear for your life.

Even when he thought he was gonna be left to the roamers he had not been this scared.

The fact she has not said a word, or done a thing up till this moment, made it all the worse; his brain his run-your-mouth-nervous brain, shut down in the face of this woman— no he couldn't even call her that.

He'd rather the man beat him to death.

At least then he would know what was waiting for him.


	82. Chapter 79

**Eve's POV**

Nothing strikes more fear into the heart's of men, than the unknown.

When people are afraid, they're irrational. But that can be used to your advantage, if you know the right points to press.

I didn't say a word, even with Daryl gone from the room.

Merely leaned against the table across the small room from Randall, and motioned for the boy to continue his babblings.

He didn't need much prompting as he rambled on for almost another two hours. Telling me about his group, and spilling more than he thought with his reckless language.

When you hear as much bullshit as I do, your skills of sorting through it max out.

Randall's not a great liar in the first place. Maybe good enough to fool some, but not someone as adept at taking cues from body language just as much as the actual words being said.

Some people aspire to this sort of skill, but it doesn't work quite like they think it does, I imagine.

Telling when someone is lying, is like speaking to someone whose native language is not your own. It's obvious when they mispronounce a word, or think it means something else, and you know that's not what they meant but you can pull from context to figure out what they're actually saying.

At least, that's how it is for me. I can't speak for anyone else. I am by no means a professional at this but I've been doing it for the better part of 20 years.

Just as I predicted, the kid's a lot more chatty now that Daryl's out of the room, and his face isn't being beaten in every ten seconds.

I don't have to do a thing to the boy, other than stare him down, listen.

If he strays from the information I'm after, all I have to do is give my blade a little twirl; let the steel catch the light and off he goes. Herding thoughts like cattle is easier than I thought it was gonna be.

This is why psychological warfare is so dangerous. And so much more effective.

I've been in the corner this whole time, listening, thinking. I knew torture wasn't gonna work. Torture never reveals solid info, but the anticipation of pain is much worse than pain itself.

Randall is all too talkative; I noticed it during Daryl's go at him.

He talks about as much as I don't. Even now, rambling on about some dog that inadvertently saved his life when all this started.

If I just let him talk and he'll give me anything I want. Whether he means to or not.

And the poor kid can finally rest.

It's been hard not getting involved up to this point. I was against hurting the boy from the start— still am.

Daryl's way is through his fist, mine is much less invasive. And leaves far less damage.

I only wish I could've used my way without Daryl having to scare the kid like this first.

I shouldn't have lost my head when he mentioned that little camp. I let Daryl beat on him when I shouldn't have.

I may not know what it's like to be in Randall's position, exactly, but I can't help putting myself in his shoes.

It's fairly obvious I'm the only one who's bothered to look at things from his point of view.

Otherwise the others wouldn't be so rough or suspicious of the kid. That in and of itself has its perks and drawbacks, but there's a difference between being cautious and what we've done to this boy _._

These people Randall's betraying by talking to us, are the ones he's survived with.

He & his friends went to find some of their group that hadn't come back; just like anyone would. Only to find they'd been killed by a bunch a people in a bar.

Lost another friend not ten minutes into the shootout that followed.

His remaining buddy told him to jump from a rooftop and the kid piked his leg on a fence on the way down.

That same friend left him for dead. A person he trusted to watch his back and get all of them home safely, left him to be eaten alive.

That may be the reason he's giving us anything at all.

The people who could have left him to die, who he shot at and who murdered his friends, are the ones who saved him.

We were the only help he was gonna get and at least two of us, refused to leave him behind for the walkers. Whereas his own friend did exactly that.

That sort of betrayal is not something you forget. No matter how hard you try. There's always that little voice in the back of your mind, wondering when they're gonna do it again. Waiting for the moment they abandon you, and you prepare for it.

You're looking for it in everything they do; especially when stakes are high. You'd be stupid not to.

Us on the other hand... We patched his leg up after killing two— _three_ of his friends and have been keeping him prisoner for days.

So we must want him alive, and now he finally knows why. Information.

He's been here, alone in this dark shack, day & night. Tied up, in pain, scared out of his wits every waking second. Wondering what's gonna happen to him.

Wondering which breath will be his last, what we planned to do to him, and somehow still managing to sleep; however little it might have been.

Not knowing if he's gonna live to see the sunrise again.

How a person thinks when they're afraid, is not difficult to work out.

It's easy to tell by the way he looks at the door. Watches the cold sunlight streaming between the cracks in the boards of this rickety place.

Praying to a god he may or may not even believe exists, that his people will somehow figure out he's still alive, where he is, and be so inclined to take on ludicrous amounts of danger from an unknown group of _god knows_ how many people, to which they know nothing about, and rescue him.

Assuming his friend didn't just assume he's dead in the first place; But give me one reason why he wouldn't?

I'm positive Randall knows he's clinging to a delusion, but it's all he's got right now. Even though he knows there's better chance of having a snowball fight in Hell. (that'd be crazy awesome)

I know. I've been there.

This is how he's been living in this shed, while everyone out there argues amongst themselves about how scared _they_ are, of _him._

Right up until this morning, when an unknown man and a —maybe— somewhat familiar woman he once tried to kill, came in; with another set of unknowns for the day.

We spent the last hour interrogating him; beating information out of him when he didn't give it up.

When he finally started to cooperate, he was hit again.

What sort of message does that send? About what happens when he does talk, about his future, about his chances of avoiding more pain, —about _us_.

I know a lot about how people think.

He's not gonna be inclined to do us any favors if this treatment continues. And if his group is as tough as he claims, we're gonna _need_ that help whether we like it or not.

Nevermind if we trust the kid or not.

People aren't stupid, but they are wired to their own primal instinct.

If you reward behavior, it's repeated. If you punish it, it's avoided or stops all together.

If doing something hurts bad enough, they'll avoid it any way they can; until dire circumstances befall them.

If something feels good enough, they'll do it 'till they drop. And some might even go so far as to do anything in their power to get it back. That's what we call addiction, and love.

Randall finally ran out of things the ramble about and a silence lulled for the first time this morning.

I took a breath, tucking my own mind wanderings away in order to organize everything I'd learned.

I haven't been listening too closely these last few minutes but I did tune in every few seconds but Randall gets side tracked a lot.

He's a nervous talker, that's for sure. I knew a few people like him back in the day.

He's looking at me now, with the eyes of a scared kid.

I don't know what everyone else is seeing when they look at him. But all I can see when I look at this teenager, is a scared kid in an insane world; whose lost more than anyone should have to bare but sadly most of us do these days.

I was one of the lucky ones. I had no family to lose, nor any close friends to worry about. Nobody but my lonesome to look for.

When all of us were chucked into the deep end with this, I just started swimming.

It's too easy to forget sometimes, that most were not so lucky.

I pushed off the table and Randall tried to move back from me. He flinched as I crouched in front of him; trying to be slow and predictable to not scare him anymore than we already have.

"Please don't hit me" he whimpered, and my jaw tightened.

For my own sake, I'm gonna pretend those words didn't stir an unpleasant place in my memory.

I pulled a little white pill out of my pocket.

Rick & the others won't be happy if they find out I snagged this from the house when everyone was asleep; quick & quiet. But I _had_ to.

"Whoa whoa hey— hey— hey—" Randall started to freak out as I chopped a sliver off; Using both hands in a see-saw motion on my blade to make a clean cut.

I took the silver with careful fingers and dropped it into my mouth to show it was okay, just like I did with the water yesterday, before taking the rest between my forefinger & thumb, and holding it out.

"For the pain."

His startled look is one I'm used to but I'm pretty sure this kid's heard me speak before(lucky him). I think he was just expecting something different. Granted he was bogged out of his mind in desperation & pain the last time.

Brown eyes flickered between mine and the pill for two lengthy seconds before hesitantly leaning forward, and I dropped it into his mouth.

I stood, grabbing the water bottle off the table and gave him a drink; trying to avoid as many of the cuts littering the kid's mouth as I could.

I waited patiently, until he'd drunk almost the entire bottle, before screwing the cap back on and setting it back where I found it.

I pulled a granola bar from my jacket pocket. It isn't much but I managed to swipe it at breakfast. Took it out of my own share of food, but I can afford to do so right now.

We've got plenty to eat on the farm at the moment. Surrounded by growing fresh greens, woods for hunting, and animals that provide steady enough streams of edibles.

Put it together and it's enough to keep us all fed for the time being.

I don't have much of a choice with how the others treat him right now, but I can at least do this much.

I'm not gonna sit back while a teenager —scared out of his mind— is held captive, abused, and fear for his life, while he's forced to live out things that would make even full grown adults cry.

It makes me sick.

It makes me sicker there's not much I can do about it right now. My opinion may carry some weight with the others but not that much. No one puts someone else's opinion above their own, and this is one of those things where everyone has something to say and they all think they're right.

That's part of why I've held off until now, because I wanted to save my opinion for when it counts. And yesterday was supposed to be the end of it.

He was supposed to be free of us. Of these headless chickens chasing their tails, vying for control over one another, just so they can feel a little better about the state of the world.

They were supposed to chill the Hell out with him gone, but that changed when they brought him back.

I changed my mind when they came back, he was still with them, and another reason for them to lose their goddamn minds over one stupid teenager, cropped up.

I spent the better part of last night sitting on a log at the main camp's burnt out fire pit, in the dark. And all I could think about was the night terror I thought I'd left in the dust _long_ ago.

About the time I myself —a _child—_ was locked in a dark shed all through the night, while everyone else was tucked up safe in bed. Because I was just another mouth to feed to them.

"What's gonna happen to me…?"

My hand reached for his shoulder on it's own. I honestly don't have an answer.

I don't like not having answers.

I'm no exception from the fear of the unknown. But I'm the type of person who will do anything in my power to figure it out.

That's exactly what I'm gonna try to do for him.


	83. Chapter 80

**Wow, chapters have been getting so long lately. I hope that's not a problem lol**

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

The shack ain't exactly soundproof, so I listened to Eve try her way through the wall, after she kicked me out.

It took a bit before I was able to come back 'ere and just lean against the wall without wantin' to throw the door open. But I'm glad I didn't when I wanted to.

I've no idea what the Hell that woman did to the kid but since I been listenin, he hasn't shut up.

Keeps running his mouth and she's just lettin 'im.

The boy will be goin' on about something and then he'll just snap back to what he was saying like he'd been threatened.

I haven't heard a sound from Eve this whole time though. I wonder what she's doing to set the kid back on track…

After about ten minutes of him rambling on about some stupid dog, I was startin' to lose my patience.

Only thing that's stopped me from going back in is the fact he's still talkin' and whatever she's done, she's gettin' a lot more outta 'im than I was.

It's hard to guess how she did it. Knowing her, she could have _anything_ up 'er sleeve.

I don't understand why she's been so nice to the kid all this time. Sneaking him that water the other night.

He and his buddies tried to kill 'er, and the others. I wouldn't have saved the kid in the first place. I'd a left him where they found 'im but not her.

Kid's lucky it was her & Rick that went to drag that old man's ass back 'ere. Anybody else had gone and there's no way they'd have brought this doofus back.

Sometimes I think I got her figured out, then she does shit like this and it's like bein' stranded in the desert and all of a sudden it starts rainin'.

I don't care what happens to this kid, to be honest. I don't got no opinion whether he lives or dies.

Way things are goin' right now, this group ain't gonna last much longer.

" _For the pain"_ Eve's muffled voice caught my ear and I turned, listening for anything else but all I heard was crinkling then the door opened and Eve stepped out.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

Daryl and I followed the dirt path back towards the camp, where the whole group is waiting to find out what we've learned, and I explained what I'd learned on the lengthy walk up.

When we reached the group, Rick jerked his chin towards us and all eyes turned our way.

"Boy there's got a gang. 30 men. Got heavy artillery and they ain't lookin' to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women they're gonna— they're gonna wish they were." Daryl's paraphrasing deserves an award. It really does, but it made me shift and I only noticed I was rolling my shoulder because Daryl looked at me.

A grim atmosphere descended over the group; the somewhat gloomy overcast morning seeming even heavier than before.

"What did you do?" Carol's voice filled with an unexpected note of curiosity, as she looked between both of us; mostly Daryl's bloody knuckles.

Daryl glanced at his hand holding the strap of his crossbow at his shoulder and dropped it to his side, a bit uncomfortable as he moved towards the edge of the group taking up a spot in the somewhat circle that's been formed by the waiting party. "Had a little chat."

We should disinfect those cuts sooner rather than later. Don't wanna risk an infection. He hit him in the mouth more times than he should have.

"No one goes near this guy." Rick declared as a few of us shifted around. Me & Daryl moving to stand near one of the trees by Glenn.

"Rick, what are you gonna do?" Lori asked her husband somewhat hushed, but I don't think it was meant to try and hide her words from the rest of us.

"We have no choice." Rick muttered back to her before speaking a little louder, "He's a threat."

"We have to eliminate the threat." Rick spoke with less conviction in his decision than normal, but my stomach dropped.

"You're just gonna kill him?" Dale stared at Rick incredulously, almost like a scornful parent who can't believe what just came out of their kid's mouth.

"It's settled." Rick stated, not looking at our —most definitely— wisest member of the group.

"I'll do it today." Rick walked away before anyone could speak, and Dale didn't hesitate a second to go after him, into the grassy fields.

I don't think Rick wants to do this anymore than I do, but while everyone else was walking away, I found myself watching Dale yell at him and I know he's yelling even from this distance, because Dale is only that animate when he's worked up.

Daryl tapped me on the elbow and I turned. He motioned he was leaving and I nodded, going with him; sparing one more glance at the two in the field, watching Rick walk away.

Halfway back to Daryl's camp, he glanced at me for about the 10th time and finally asked, "You okay?"

I looked at him and honestly couldn't answer. I opened my mouth to, but an answer is not what came out. "I… I need to think. I'll see you later, Daryl."

I didn't wait for any acknowledgement as I split off from the path; heading towards the quietest corner of this land.

It's amazing how many acres this place is, how few people are living on it, and it still feels so crowded. So small.

I've given up on an idea such as a 'peaceful' day without conflict. _Something_ always seems to be going down and I'm so sick of it. All of it.

I keep having to remind myself that I decided to stick this out and try to save my family from pulling themselves apart, but the fact I even have to do that is foreboding.

I'm not entirely sure this group can be saved. And I can't _stop_ thinking it.

* * *

 **3rd Person POV**

Half an hour after getting back to his distant camp, Daryl heard twigs cracking as he picked out some newly crafted arrows.

He looked over, expecting it to be Eve but scoffed when he saw a white haired old man.

"Whole point of me comin' up here is to get away from you people." he went back to what he was doing.

"Gonna take more than that." Dale didn't miss a beat.

Daryl could only think of two reasons he's up here and it's either because he's here to 'ask a favor' like everybody else who seems to come up here (save for Eve). Or, "Carol send you?"

"Carol's not the only one that's concerned about you, your new role in the group." Dale propped his foot on a log, so he could rest his hand on his knee a bit. Old joints slightly aching from the long walk out here; reminding him he's no longer the young man he once was.

"I don't need my head shrunk." Daryl groaned. The sound reminisce of a stubborn teen not wanting to talk to listen to their parents lecture them.

"This group's broken. I'm better off fendin' for myself." Daryl didn't bother looking at him and just continued to prep his bow for a hunt. One of the few in the last couple days Eve probably won't be joining him for.

Daryl had hoped she'd come up here before he left, but…

He sighed. 'She's got some stuff to figure out. Could see it on 'er face.'

"You act like you don't care." Dale stated as Daryl reached for his jacket, tucking his partner into the corner of his head that he somehow ended up designating for the sneaky somewhat childish woman.

"Yeah, t's cause I don't." He looked at Dale, pulling on the denim jacket & leather vest that's been accompanying his shoulders as of late; as the weather continues to get colder. Turning back to his gear, fixing the collar, before grabbing his knife from its place stuck in the log he's been finding himself sitting on.

"So live or die, you don't care what happens to Randall?"

"Nope" Daryl looked him in the eyes, sliding his hunting knife into the sheath on the front side of his hip.

"Then why not stand with me, try to save the kids life? If it really doesn't matter one way or another." Dale tried.

"I didn't peg you for a desperate son of a bitch." Daryl picked up his crossbow, gettin' his hunting stuff ready.

"Your opinion makes a difference." Dale tried.

"Man, ain't nobody lookin' at me for nothin"

"Carol is, Eve does, and— and I am. Right now. And you obviously— you have Rick's ear."

Daryl turned and stalked back towards him. "Rick just looks to Shane." He couldn't keep the venom out of my voice over the man's name. "Let 'em."

Daryl began to walk away again but Dale persisted. "You cared about what happened to Sophia."

Daryl turned a hard stare on Dale and the old man continued. "Cared what it meant to the group."

"Torturing people? That isn't you" Daryl walked back towards him.

"You're a decent man. So is Rick" Dale jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. His near pleading gaze didn't phase Daryl in the slightest.

Daryl's face fell neutral, and for a moment Dale noted the resemblance to Evelyn's calm, calculative demeanor.

"Shane, he's different."

"Why's that? Cause he killed Otis."

Dale's face fell grave and he moved towards Daryl. "He tell you that?"

"He told some story — How Otis covered him, saved his ass. He showed up with the dead guy's gun." Daryl didn't want to re-have his & Eve's entire conversation, with Dale. So he kept it short and to the point; paraphrasing as much as possible.

"Rick ain't stupid." he shook his head, staring Dale down. "If he didn't figure that out it's cause he didn't wanna."

Daryl turned, stalking off and this time no matter what Dale said short of someone dying, he was leaving on his hunt.

"It's like I said — group's broken." he called back to make sure Dale couldn't stop him again.

* * *

Hey guys! I have another question for you today.

A friend of mine and I were talking the other day, and it made me curious. Do you prefer longer stories or shorter stories?

She prefers shorter but personally, I like a nice mid-ground between the two. And yes, I see the irony in asking this on chapter _80_ of a story, but what can u do? lol


	84. Chapter 81

**Eve's POV**

At the sound of footsteps, I looked over my shoulder from my crisscross seat on the grass a fair ways behind the house.

Dale waved, coming to stand in front of me.

"Rick's given me the day to talk to everyone. Try to change some minds about the boy, Randall. Try to save his life."

I perked up, sitting straighter and Dale's eyebrows raised. A somewhat relieved smile coming to his face.

"I take it, you're with me on this?"

No I'm totally on board with murdering a teenager who probably has all sorts of trauma by now. I nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically; I heard my neck pop.

"Can I count on you to help me convince the others?"

I nodded, standing up.

"I'm gonna try to talk some sense into Glenn next. Care to join me? He might listen to you more than me."

Listen to _me_ over _you_? Hah! Good one.

If he doesn't listen to you, he won't listen to anybody. You don't give yourself enough credit, Dale. There's a reason most of us don't tangle with you.

I don't know how I feel about admitting it, but you scare me sometimes.

* * *

I ran a hand through my gross hair, pulling it away from my face. I left my hair tie in my tent. I need to dip my head in a bucket of water or something.

I can't believe things have gotten this bad.

I sat on the log at Daryl's empty campsite, waiting for him to come back from his hunt so we can gather up with the others.

Dale said he already talked to him, and Daryl should be back before dark anyway.

I don't know if this situation is salvageable. Things are worse off than I imagined.

When Dale told me Rick gave him a chance to talk to everyone, I thought there was still a chance to save the kid.

But everyone we talked to today, has either been indifferent like Hershel, gung ho for homicide like Shane (nor surprise there; I didn't even both talking to the man with Dale), or unsure where to fall like T-Dog and most of the others.

At least T is smart and has actually thought about why he is where he stands(Thank Merlin's beard); Less scared and more concerned by the actual facts. Not some self-told bs like, 'I don't feel good with him around. He's scary'.

At least T's being reasonable about the whole thing. So far, not many of the others have.

The way we left things, he still isn't on our side but he's agreed to at least hear out the argument that's no doubt gonna happen when all of us cram ourselves like sardines into the house in a bit to discuss.

He's on board with whatever the group decides as a whole.

Talking to him kinda reminded me the importance of being impartial in a situation like this.

I don't wanna kill this kid, I hate the way he's been treated, I hate how everyone has reacted to his presence, and I loathe the way this whole thing is and has been handled, but what I want is not the primary concern.

Their reactions aren't unreasonable.

Blown way out of proportion, — _maybe_. But not unfounded.

I'm not the only person uncomfortable with killing a kid, T & Glenn, even Maggie proved it. But I've let myself get too emotionally invested.

As much as I wanna save the kid and give him a chance, the other's may be seeing something I'm not. Whether it's because I'm too close to the issue, or because I've seen reflections of myself & so many others in the kid, or maybe because I take pity on him — I don't know.

I need to take a step back. He's a kid, but he's still a functional human being who _does_ pose a sort of threat still.

Never judge a survivor until you know what they did to survive. I more than anyone should know looks can be deceiving, that's how I survived the homes.

' _Sometimes we have to do things we don't like. It doesn't have to make us feel good, but it's gotta be done.'_ My mma teacher's words rang from the subtle corners of my mind as a watched a bug crawl into the empty fireless campfire pit.

I don't want to kill him. I don't want him to die. I don't want us to be the ones to do it.

But… what I _want_ doesn't matter as much as what we _need._

"It time?"

I jumped two feet in the air, as Daryl walked up from the forest; coming _this_ close to being the one doing the impaling for a change.

He raised his hands and the — _legh_ — furry burnt cabbage rodents, in surrender but he didn't stop walking towards me.

He must have some kind of confidence. I almost let this knife have a nice flight and plant itself in his eye socket, and he didn't even blink.

The more important thing though is…

 _I'm_ supposed to be the sneaky one here.

Me. Not you.

Quit stealing my job, you spatula.

It's one of the few positions left standing after the apocalypse. And it's paid in boredom relief _._

He motioned and dropped his kills on the log I had been sitting on before he decided to take a gamble with his life on whether or not I'd realize it was him in time to stop my own reflexes.

Now I know what it's like to be on the other side of this.

I don't like it. Switch back with me.

Daryl set down his crossbow before heading off, and we back to the house in silent oranging light.

I'm tense, but I don't know how he isn't. Maybe he is and just isn't as much as I am, and I'm only noticing it because I'm more tense than usual and—

"Hey. You good?"

I nodded without thinking and Daryl stopped; causing me to stop as well and look at him, trying not to chew my lips because call me paranoid but I think he's pegged that habit.

"You sure?"

I opened my mouth to respond but nothing came out.

"Ain't nothin' you can do about it if this don't go the way ya want it to. Whatever happens in there, ain't on you."

"How did you know I was…" _Eve speak_!

Daryl continued past me and after my brain caught up, and my jaw was done hanging open, I jogged after him; flying up the steps straight past Carl, Lori, and Rick who were headed up the spacious deck as well.

I followed Daryl's back around the corner to the largest space in the house aside from the dining room; the living room.

From the moment I set foot inside and got a view of the whole room, I saw it. On their faces.

They've already decided.

Everyone gathered up in the living room, as the door closed for a final time behind Lori.

We've lost before it's even begun.


	85. Chapter 82

This whole meeting is gonna be one big guilt wipe from their consciences, and a talk to prepare themselves. Make them feel better about what's about to happen— what they're about to do.

I've seen it before.

Never with something as serious as this, but looking around this room… all I can see is the same expression I saw around the older kids who were fairly new to the system.

New to the idea of being criminals, and had to psyche themselves up before going out to do something.

Except Shane.

He has the same expression as the veteran kids. The ones who were almost 18 and about to be _real_ criminals. Join gangs, getting the system off their backs and about to spend the rest of their lives "taking what they want".

It was foolish to believe we could change everyone's minds in a single day.

There's a surplus of stubborn big headed people in this group, who all think their word is the right one.

It's why there are so many fights. People always clashing, getting into pissing matches.

If that isn't enough, most of them are the ones making decisions. The rest just plain don't wanna be involved. We've got too many people with too much to say, and too many who are willing to just watch them squawk their hearts out.

Preaching the shittiest ideas like their words are gospel.

I'm not blaming them for being scared. I'm not trying to make light of the situation, they all have legitimate concerns. I should know. I've been here, right in the thick of it this whole time.

But Randall's scared too.

Why can nobody else see that?

I stood beside Daryl who leaned against a small shelf drawer thing, behind Rick, who was leaning against the back of the sitting chair on this end of the room.

The others are spaced out evenly throughout the entire circumference of the room. Some standing, some sitting, most leaning against various things such as walls, chairs, or tall furniture, but the atmosphere is so thick and uncomfortable you could choke on it and not so much as a sound would be left of you.

Rick looked back at me and Daryl behind me, and I followed his, Daryl, and Lori's gaze to my left, where Carl was standing just behind me.

He sighed with a bitter expression, and went down the hall, towards Beth's room. Where she and Jimmy should be, as they and Carl are the only ones not participating in this; all of them being under 20.

I don't think they should hear a conversation like this, much less be apart of one, but maybe if they were, people would be more reasonable.

It's like being encased in tar. You know there's no getting out. You know you're not gonna make it, but it's a torturously slow death; squeezing every last drop of hope from you as slow as possible, until you're drained dry. Before finally bursting.

And the worst part is, I don't even have to try. I already know. There's nothing I can do to stop it.

The moment the door down the hall shut, Glenn started off tentatively, "So how do we do this? Just take a vote?"

"Does it have to be unanimous?" Andrea glanced around. I forgot she was a lawyer before this. This probably isn't anything new to her.

"How about majority rules?" Lori offered from the doorway she leaned against, on Daryl's other side. Blocking the door to the porch.

"Well, let's— let's just see where everybody stands. Then we can, talk through the options." Rick stated, taking control of the conversation before too many ideas get tossed around.

"Well, way I see it" Of bloody course _he's_ the first to open his trap. "There's only way to move forward." When does this ex-officer _not_ have something to shoot off about.

"Killing him," Dale snapped. "Right?"

"Why even bother to take a vote, it's clear which way the wind's blowin'." So Dale caught on too.

"Well, if people believe we should spare him, I wanna know." Why, Rick? You're the one who sentenced him this morning. Aren't you advocating for this course of action, as much as everyone else?

"Well, I can tell you it's a small group." Dale stared at the obstructed horizon for a few seconds, taking control of his breathing. "Maybe just — me, Evelyn, and Glenn."

My name seemed to turn a few surprised eyes my direction. But I was too focused on Dale's change in expression as soon as he looked at Glenn, sitting on the piano bench between us with his back to me, on Rick's left.

"Look, I— I think you're pretty much right about everything, all the time but, this—"

"They've got you scared." Dale pointed towards the majority of the room.

"He's not one of us, and we've — we've lost too many people already." Glenn reasoned but he sounds like a skittish teenager defending why his grades are so low without actually having a solid reason.

"How about you? Do you agree with this?" Dale looked across the room at Maggie and Hershel.

"Couldn't we continue keepin' him prisoner?" Maggie caved.

"Just another mouth to feed." Daryl spoke up beside me.

Even if I don't like it, he has a point.

"It may be a lean winter." Hershel interjected.

"We could ration better." Lori added, looking to her right at the old man; playing with her necklace.

"Well, he could be an asset." Dale argued. "Give him a chance to prove himself."

"Put him to work?" Glenn offered. Good, he's still semi-on board with the idea of not killing someone if we don't have to.

"We're not letting him walk around." Rick refuted right away.

"We could put an escort on him." Maggie offered, her voice the strongest it's been since we started talking.

"Who wants to volunteer for that duty?" Shane's condescending tone had my hand raising in half a second flat.

I tapped my foot on the hardwood floor at the same time, just so those with their backs to me (mainly Rick), would turn and see.

"I will" Dale also volunteered.

"I don't think any of us should be walkin' around this guy." Rick put his hand up to stop the argument from getting more heated.

He can barely walk on his own, the Hell do you think the kid's gonna do? Pull the old 'what's that' trick and disappear like the last cookie in existence? (Which I would totally have nothing to do with. Nothing at all.)

"He's right. I mean I would trust Eve more than anybody to watch this guy but I wouldn't feel safe unless he was tied up." Lori backed her husband, of course.

"We can't exactly put chains around his ankles, sentence him to hard labor." Andrea crossed her arms. That, I am actually in agreement with. A rare thing when me and this woman are on the same page.

"Look, say we let him join us, right?" Shane spoke reasonably for _once_. "Maybe he's helpful, maybe he's _nice._ We let our guard down and maybe he runs off, brings back his 30 men."

Daryl looked at me but he doesn't have to. I'm not irrational. I'm more than capable of putting my personal feeling aside for the man and admit Shane makes a good point there.

"So the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime he may never even attempt?" Dale argued, but he's getting too emotional. This isn't gonna end the way he —or I— want it to.

"If we do this, we're saying there's no hope. Rule of law is dead. There is no civilization." I know you're upset, Dale. But the civilization you think is still alive, might as well be a walker. Dead but still vying.

"Oh my god." Shane muttered under his breath, turning his back somewhat, and rubbing a hand over his shaved head.

"Could you drive him further out? Leave him like you planned?" Hershel offered.

That may honestly be our best option. It was a good idea the first time. If Randall had been smart, he'd have let them let him go instead of opening his mouth and letting them know he knew where we were.

Trust me I've spent some… quality time with the kid since we saved him, and he isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, if you know what I mean; cringy pun not intended.

Lori shifted in discomfort, rubbing her chest with her hand, the way mother's do when they're worried(I wonder why). "You _barely_ came back this time."

Gee, I wonder who's responsible for that. My eyes directed at Shane.

Rick hasn't told us what really happened out there, but I'm willing to bet it had something to do with his partner. Everything around here always seems to.

"There are walkers." Where aren't there? I'd like to go to that place, please. "You could break down." Lori continued to list. "You could get lost."

"Get ambushed" Daryl added another good point. But tell me, _how?_

Who is gonna ambush us? These guys don't even know we're here, much less when we'd leave, or where we're going, what we're doing. It's not like they've got satellite tracking.

If they had that, they'd be on our doorstep already. If they're interested in us at all. I don't know why you would be if you had something like that up and running.

"They're right. We should not put our own people at risk." Glenn interjected.

We're already at risk. When are we not? Life is a risk. Always has been. There's a reason we call it 'survival' and not 'better luck next time'.

"If you… go through with it, how would you do it?" Patricia spoke up for the first time. "Would he suffer?"

"We could hang him, right? Just snap his neck."

"I thought about that"

"That won't kill him right away unless it snaps the C2 or C3." I cut in.

I'm not sure how I feel about my first interjection being the fact that I know this, but I'd rather tolerate the stares and watch everyone look a little sick to their stomachs, than let the kid's death be the gallows.

"Shooting may be more humane." Rick nodded, firmly.

"And... what about the body?" T-Dog crossed his arms, scratching his chin. "Do we bury him—"

"Whoa whoa whoa— hold on, you're talking about this like it's already decided." That's cause they did, Dale.

"We been talking all day, going around in circles." Daryl did a motion with his finger, starting to pace a little. "You just wanna go around in circles again?"

He sounds tired. I would be too after going for a hunt and coming back to...this.

"This is a young man's life! And it is worth more than a 5 minute conversation!" Dale shouted, putting his foot down.

"Is this what it's come to? We kill someone because we can't decide what else to do with him? —You _saved_ him!" Dale shouted, near hysterical.

"You saved him and now look at us. He's been tortured. He's gonna be executed."

Rick shifted, and the muscles fleshing in his face gave me a _little_ bit of hope that he might be swayed. Andrea too from the look of her.

"How are we any different than those people we're so afraid of?"

I rolled my shoulder, shifting uncomfortably. Dale can't even imagine how much worse those people are compared to us even though we're having this conversation. If Randall was telling the truth, we are nowhere near them. Yet.

Glenn shifted, glancing at me and I set my hand on his shoulder, nodding. Looks like he's back on our side.

I looked around the room at all of the others and pride swelled in my chest, almost bringing a small smile to my lips.

It looks like more than half the group is starting to come around to just _considering_ alternatives.

That is, until Shane opened his lily licking mouth. "We all know what has to be done."

"No, Dale is right." Rick refuted and this time I did smile a little. "We can't leave any stone unturned here. We have a responsibility—"

"So what's the other solution?" Andrea argued.

"Let Rick finish." Lori snapped but it went unnoticed to Andrea, as usual.

"We haven't come up with a single viable option yet." Andrea has a bad habit of pushing her own ideas and taking no one else into account. "I wish we could—"

"So let's work on it!" Dale shouted over her.

If there's one person who can overtake these stubborn people in an argument, it's Dale. I've never seen _anyone_ who can shut loudmouths like this man.

"We are." Rick's words were nearly clipped again when Carol spoke for the first time. "Stop it."

All eyes turned to the grey haired woman, who's been quieter than _I_ have during this conversation.

"Just stop it. I'm sick of everybody arguing and fighting. I didn't ask for this." You think any of us did? "You can't ask us to decide something like this." Why the Hell not? Because you're _uncomfortable?_ You should be.

"Please decide— either of you— both of you. But leave me out." Carol leaned back against the door once again.

"Not speaking out," Dale started, firm but not shouting like he was before. "Or killing him yourself. There's no difference."

"Alright, that's enough." Rick put a stop to this, and everyone backed down off each other's grills.

"Anyone who wants the floor before we make a final decision, has the chance."

One by one, people who were standing began to sit down. Eyes directed towards the ground, almost no one was looking at each other aside from me, T, and Dale apparently; whereas we're looking at everyone.

I met several eyes but as soon as they made contact, they looked away. Some in shame, guilt, others I can't decipher.

Nobody spoke for nearly a minute, and I took a deep breath.

Alright, my turn then.


	86. Chapter 83

**Be warned, this chapter was a little rushed for reasons I will explain at the end, and I MIGHT possibly come back later and rewrite it. If that happens, I will put a note at the beginning of chp 84 to let you know to go back and read 83 before proceeding.**

 **Now enough talk. Enjoy!**

* * *

I took a step forward, "There's already at least _one_ man out there, who's gone back and knows there's a group around these parts."

"A group responsible for the deaths of a number of their men." I pointed in the direction of town.

Confused, alarmed eyes shot to me like I just declared I'm infected.

"He drove off, saving his own skin, and _left_ that kid behind as a human kabob."

Looks of realization shot between each of the 3 men who were in that fight with me when it all went down. The bullet graze on my shoulder is still healing.

"Whoa whoa whoa— _What_?" Shane stepped forward and I barely took notice of my hand shifting to the hilt of my knife, but I did register moving my foot half a step back because I didn't realize Daryl is standing right behind me now, and my heel made contact with what I assume is his shoe.

"What are you talking about?" T looked at me for explanation but turned his eyes towards Glenn, as the young man groaned.

"Oh my god…" Glenn rubbed his forehead gravely. "How did we forget about that guy?"

" _What_ guy?" Daryl pressed.

"There were 2 men other than the kid. We killed one of them, Randall jumped from the roof, but the other man… He drove off before we got outta there." Rick answered, running a hand down his mouth.

"And you're just tellin' us this _now?_ " Shane is near seething.

"It doesn't matter. There's nothing we can do about him now, but the point is, Randall is not our biggest threat here."

"What if they come back for him?" Andrea cocked her hip, her hands swinging up before smacking down against her legs.

"They won't." Rick shook his head.

"And why's that huh?" Shane scoffed incredulously.

"Why would you waste precious resources on going back for someone you barely know, who you believe was either devoured, or is a walker?"

"She has a point. I mean," Glenn gestured at me. "If they were gonna go back for him, they'd have done it by now."

"Listen, I know you're scared. You're afraid of being in danger, of losing what little we have right now, of losing each other... afraid of dying. You —and I— have a right to every last one of those things." I pause, looking around the room; almost pleading with my eyes. "But none of that will change with or without Randall's pulse. From today, to tomorrow, to the next. To however long we're around for."

"Right now... there is a _scared_ , 20 something kid sitting in a dark shack, alone, _chained to a wall_. Who's friends betrayed him, and he narrowly escaped death only by the hands of those who killed several of the only living he knows —who have been keeping him hostage for _days_ while we quibbled amongst ourselves about whether or not his life is worth _less_ than ours."

Expressions of guilt and contemplation around the room brought me a little spark of hope that I might be getting through to them.

"Maybe you think I'm defending his life, maybe you don't. Everyone has raised valid concerns, and made good points. But what we're deciding here is not whether or not to kill the boy." I looked at Dale specifically, when he went to open his mouth, so he'll let me finish my point.

"We're deciding whether or not we _can_ take the risk of keeping him alive."

"He's a threat" Shane stated for what must the hundredth time.

"Nobody is debating that. But he is not our _biggest_ nor the only threat out there."

"It's never a bad thing to have an extra set of hands nowadays. The boy's not going anywhere, not on that leg. We don't _have_ to have all the answers right away."

"Can you name one reason, in light of understanding from his point of view, that would cause him to _not_ want to cooperate with us?"

Silence fell over the room.

"Uh, maybe because we're not his people." Shane sassed.

"None of us were apart a this group at some point." Daryl backed me up, thank goodness.

Those who aren't looking down in contemplation, are looking at each other, and at me.

I caught Dale's eyes, and the sheer relief and gratitude on his face, kills me.

The fact he even feels the need to give me such a look for being with him on this, twists my gut. We— this group, have strayed so far off the path, Daryl might not even be able to help us find it again.

I looked over my shoulder, meeting blue eyes. He stared back before giving a brief nod.

My shoulder's detensed, bringing my attention to the fact they had been. I hadn't realized how stressful it's become when Daryl and I aren't on the same page.

His eyes flickered to Rick. Who I turned to see looking at me. The deputy held my gaze, but for considerably less time than Daryl.

His eyes moved from mine to Daryl, to Hershel, to Shane, to his wife, before finally turning to his own hands. Something I've noticed he does when he's consulting himself.

Come on, Rick. I know some part of you knows killing the kid isn't the answer we need.

"We know what has to be done. Why are we still debatin' this. The boy is a threat with or without that other man out there. It'd be safer not to have this kid to worry about if those guys come knockin' on our door." Shane argued, stepping forward.

"Man's got a point but, I'd rather not kill nobody if we don't gotta." T-Dog, you are a saint. "What if they find out we saved the kid just to kill 'im later. It ain't right."

"What are our options?" Lori raised her fingers,

"We keep him alive and have to use our resources on him." Andrea provided, folding her arms across her chest.

"We kill him, and be done with it." Shane aggressively listed.

"Once his leg is healed we could gain another able-body." Hershel input.

"It don't matter. What it comes down to is, we don't know this guy. It don't matter how useful the kid _might_ be. We can't trust him." Shane stated. "And on top a that, he's dangerous."

And here I thought for a brief moment, this was going well.

Dale stretched his hand towards Rick, "You once said that we don't kill the living."

"Well, that was before the living tried to kills us." Rick stepped forward to the chair he's been leaning his palms against off-&-on for this entire conversation.

"But don't you see? If we do this, the people that we were— the world that we knew is dead."

Okay,... I'm not sure where you're going with this, Dale.

"And this new world is ugly. It's… _harsh. It's—_ it's survival of the fittest! And that's a world I don't wanna live in. And I don't believe any of you do." Dale spread his arms towards everyone. "I can't."

I think I can safely speak for pretty much everyone left out there, we'd all rather have hot running water, electricity, the option of a 5 star meal if we want it, and not have to sleep with one eye open.

"Please" I watched Dale's eyes gloss over, on the verge of desperate tears. "Let's just do what's _right_."

The room was silent.

I looked at Daryl whose arms are crossed over his chest, palms loosely resting against his ribs.

"Isn't there anybody else who's gonna stand with us?" Dale pleaded.

Long seconds went by like when needles are coming towards me. Until finally, "He's right."

My chest heaved with the breath I'd been holding, and for a moment, I saw Amy in Andrea. It was only for a second, but that's more than enough to make me stop and stare.

"We should try to find another way." she looked around at the others and it was hard for me not to look at Shane while he stared at the blonde woman, speechless. Like she'd lost her mind.

"Anybody else?" Rick looked around to the contemplative and downcast looks but no one else spoke.

Rick slowly turned to Dale with a look that isn't difficult to decipher.

Unbelievable.

That's it?

After all of that— are you _serious!?_

"Are y'all gonna watch too?" Dale's sarcasm was broken up by bitter tears being blinked away.

"No, you'll all go hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we're slaughtering a human being. Whoa" Dale shook his head with a big unstable breath.

I never thought I'd see the day when this man cried. I never wanted to but I can't blame him. My own throat is so tight I can barely breathe.

"I won't be a party to it." Dale headed for the door behind me and Daryl, but stopped next to the blue-eyed man behind me, setting a deliberate hand on his shoulder.

"This group _is_ broken."

And he left.

I looked back at Rick, the rest of the room, Glenn, Daryl... before I followed Dale out.

* * *

 **DON'T PANIC**

 **(^any of you that get this reference, I love you)**

 **I will be out of town for a little under 2 weeks. Which means I'll be away from my computer, so I might not be able to update Monday. But hold up, I will still try to update; It just might be later in the week and if for some reason I can't, there will be a bonus chapter to make up for it.**

 **In other news, after having a bit of trouble with this argument, I had a lengthy debate with a friend of mine about Randall's situation.**

 **I asked her to argue the other side (aka Shane's stance) because switching my view point got too confusing and muddled no matter how I approached it (and I tried like 9 different ways). She made a lot of good points I didn't expect and I honestly can't say where I stand anymore, but I'm gonna call it a draw because neither can she.**

 **Killing him is definitely the safer option we both agreed on that. But what we came down to was, you would have to decide what's more important to you.**

 **For example: Dale - morality is probably more important than the risk it brings. For others like Rick, safety might be a higher priority. For some (like Eve) it might be situational; sometimes it could be worth a little calculated risk to take a chance on someone who could help you, or it might not. For someone like Glenn, it might be worth the risk to save someone who's "Up shit's creek, hoping somewhere down the line, they help you out of it too." even if that makes you a bigger dumbass than them. For someone like Andrea, it might be worth the risk not because you believe in Randall, but because you believe in your friends (Dale). And for someone like Lori, it might be what you can live with on your conscience. And so on.**

 **So, if you were apart of this argument, where do you think you would stand?**


	87. Chapter 84

**Hey guys, apologies for not updating on Monday. I did have the chp done in time (by some miracle) but for some reason I wasn't able to connect to the website to upload.**

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

Rick looked at me, probably watching to see if I'd leave. But I don't really care one way or another what happens to this kid. I know Eve does, which is enough of a surprise. She usually doesn't have an opinion, much less on stuff like this.

I been wracking my brain tryna figure out why but everything I come up with don't fit. It don't sound like somethin' she'd do.

"Alright then." Rick looked over the group one last time. "Shane, Daryl, and I will take care of it in the barn, tonight."

I nodded, itching to get outta 'ere and go find Eve.

By the time I got to the door, Eve was halfway to lord knows where and I had to run after her.

"Eve" I called when I finally got close.

She didn't stop but I know she heard me. God it's weird hearin' 'er feet make noise.

"Eve, hold up."

She kept walking and I almost growled at 'er, catching up.

"I said wait god damnit—" I grabbed 'er arm, stopping the woman in her tracks.

"Don't" Eve ripped her arm from my grip but stopped.

I'd be lyin' if I said it didn't surprise me. I ain't never seen 'er act like this before.

"You good?" I eyed her carefully. I don' wanna get stabbed or nothin'.

Eve sighed, running exhausted hands over her face before shaking 'er head. "Thanks for backing me up in there. I know we didn't see eye to eye on this,"

I slowly nodded, still watching her tryna work out what's goin' on. Did she think I'd leave 'er out to dry?

"I can't be here right now. I need to leave." Her eyes turned towards the treeline.

I followed her line of sight and my gut sank a little. "It's gon be dark soon, you sure that's a good idea?"

"It isn't." So she knows it's a bad idea, why the Hell she doin' it then?

"I can't be here for this." She shook her head, not looking at me.

I watched her eyes and the determined set in her shoulders and a more important thought steam rolled everythin' else.

"You plannin' on comin' back?" I tried to keep the urgency outta my voice but a little more than I would've liked slipped.

Eve sucked her teeth, glancing at the rapidly darkening horizon. "Yeah"

That was less than convincing.

She looked at me, watching for a few seconds. She pulled one a 'er knives and held it out to me.

I paused, looking between her and the blade.

' _Is_ _she serious?'_

She waited, showing no sign of retracting, or walking away.

She would never leave this— oh.

My hand came up by itself and Eve pressed the weighted handle into my palm. The worn grip is warmer than I thought it'd be. It's only been in 'er hand for a minute at most.

Eve turned not a second after I took it, and I didn't try to grab her again.

I hesitated but an image of her covered in mud from that hole I pulled her out of was enough to make me get over it. "Don't go too far."

She waved in acknowledgment without lookin' back, but she's gotta get outta here. That much I understand.

I don't think either of us have ever spent so much time at camp before this place.

We used to spend most of our time wanderin' in and out. Huntin', doin' runs (her mostly). Neither of us spent an entire day in camp before the farm.

"Daryl"

I turned to Rick, glancing at Shane as he passed me; heading towards the shed.

Rick tilted his head at Eve, halfway through the field already.

"Everything okay?" He glanced at the knife in my hand and I tucked it away. I don't know why. It's not like he's gon' take it. "I know she doesn't like this but—"

"It's fine. We doin' this?" I started walking, hopin' for Rick's sake he don't try to go talk to 'er.

I don't know what goes through her head but It sure ain't in his favor right now.

Rick caught up to me and during the two minute walk down to the shed, he kept glancing out into the field.

I looked a couple times, watching Eve disappear into the tall grass. I assume she laid down. For some reason she retreats to the floor. I asked her why she looks at the sky once, but I ain't ever seen her do it durin' the day before.

She's been hangin' around camp too much lately. She gets restless if she don't wander. She used to do it at the quarry too.

I don't think she even notices.

"Leave 'er be." I avoided stepping in a hole in the dirt.

"What?" Rick glanced at me.

"I know ya wanna go over there. Don't." I went into the shed where Shane was already pulling the kid to his feet.

* * *

I held onto the back of Randall's shirt, pushing him forward behind Rick who had the light, and Shane, as we approached the barn.

As soon as Randall saw we were headed for it, he started to resist. "Hold on, hold on. Hold on"

Rick pushed the door open, heading in first with the 3 of us following.

"Wait, wait —wait" Randall started trying to move away from me, but I pulled him back.

"Put him there." Rick pointed to a space in the center of the dark barn. It still smells like dead folk in here.

I handed Randall off to Shane who grabbed the kid from behind. "This is all gon' be over soon."

"What? What's gonna be over?" Randall let himself be blindfolded, but he don't got much choice really.

"Hey— hey!" Randall started to panic

"Just relax" Shane's monotone is deeper than normal, but he looks too happy about this; even though his expression is "blank".

Randall started crying, and Shane shushed him like you would for a baby.

I threw a weird look at him while I stood off to the side, but he didn't see it.

Shane let Randall go and the three of us stood in an unintentional triangle around the whimpering kid. Rick at the head with his Python in hand.

"Would you like to stand or kneel?" Rick's tone is appropriately heavy but resolved. I can tell he don't wanna do this but he's made up his mind.

Randall fussed but didn't answer and Rick glanced at me.

I stepped forward and grabbed Randall's shoulders, kicking the back of his knee. He dropped, sobbing as I backed away again.

Rick looked at Shane and I watched him nod before Rick looked back at the kid.

I tried not to shift on my feet but I can't quit thinking about what Eve said. ' _A scared kid'_

"Do you have any final words?"

The kid cried louder, sobbing "No, please— don't" over and over.

Rick raised his gun to the kid's forehead and as soon as he cocked it, Randall's crying became more frantic.

"Do it dad. Do it."

All eyes flew to the doorway where Carl stood, egging Rick on.

Rick looked at Shane in alarm, and I shifted outta the way when Shane stalked past me to the door.

"Are you kiddin' me? What did I say to you?"

I watched Rick's resolve crumble in a matter of seconds while Shane dragged Carl by the arm towards the barn doors.

They didn't even make it out before Rick uncocked the gun and holstered it.

"Take him away."

As soon as the words left Rick's mouth, Randall gasped in relief.

"Take him away." Rick repeated, turning and I jumped on it.

"Get up." I pulled him to his feet and got him out of there.

Shane shoved the barn door in a fit and stalked back towards camp, clearly pissed.

I walked the kid past Carl, taking him back to the shed.

I almost feel sorry for this kid. Only reason Rick stopped was cause a Carl, and next time, the kid won't there to save this guy.

This is just prolonging the inevitable.

I barely put Randall back before a scream pierced the air.

My eyes shot to the door and I snatched the lamp off the table, already running towards the screaming in the field, without a second thought.

 **Eve's POV**

I bolted upright from the grass as screaming erupted and saw a light moving fast through the field.

I don't even remember standing up before I was flying through the field after it; closing in on the screams, knife in hand.

It wasn't long before two figures on the ground came into view and I watched the light get thrown to the ground, illuminating a person I'd recognize anywhere tackle one figure off the other.

My lungs felt like they were gonna pop as I got closer. Close enough to see Dale on the ground, covered in blood, and Daryl stabbing lanky shirtless walker through the head.


	88. Chapter 85

Mind running, chest squeezing, throat lynching off my breath, I dropped beside Dale; Eyes locked on the cannonball sized hole torn in his stomach.

The crimson life giving liquid from inside us all, gradually turning his white shirt the color of the wine we all laughed over at the CDC mere weeks ago.

I can hear Daryl calling for help but it's muted. Like I'm underwater and the cold nipping at my skin from the night only aids in making me numb as I watched the heat from Dale's organs clashing with it; creating pillows of steam, resembling a candle that's just gone out.

My vision blurred as I knelt down, raindrops splattering my hand except there's no rain.

My chest feeling like it's trying to pull itself apart, I took Dale's hand, as his gasps for breath gurgled through his throat.

He jerked with every breath. His diaphragm moving unnaturally doing it's best to get air to his lungs without the aid of muscle and skin.

Dale's warm brown eyes filled with unimaginable pain, fixed on mine for only a moment. His hand trying and failing to maintain a grip on mine for more than a few moments at a time.

"Hang in there, buddy" Daryl knelt on one knee on Dale's other side. I can hear the desperation in his voice. Even if he doesn't admit it, he respects Dale —all of us do.

I'm not a doctor, but even I know, there's nothing we can do. It would take a fully functioning emergency room and a team of surgeons within the next few minutes for even a remote chance of survival. And even if we had access to all of that and by some miracle he survived, it still wouldn't matter.

My eyes drew behind Daryl to the unmoving corpse. A split in the center of it's forehead going all the way up to the top of it's skull. It's hands stained red, the color of the cloth Dale & Jim always wiped their hands on after fixing up the RV or working on the cars.

He's infected.

I put my hand on Dale's forehead, holding his hand closer to my chest; trying to give any sort of comfort possible, anything. Even if it's only taking the pain from 100 to 99.

He's already getting colder, but his forehead is burning.

Footsteps and drew nearer as I looked at Daryl over Dale. His eyes drew to mine, a broken chaotic desperation held within normally steady blue.

He knows too. It's too late.

"Oh my god. Oh god." Rick dropped next to me and a moment later the entire group was swarming around us. Like oil poured into a pan, not enough to cover the center but enough to create a ring.

I moved out of his way, around Dale's head as Rick took the old man's tortured face; trying to get him to focus. "All right, just listen to my voice. Listen to me, all right? Just listen to me."

Dale moaned in anguish, and I set my other hand on his shoulder, squeezing. My mind ripping itself apart for anything I can do but even though I know there isn't anything to be done, I can't stop searching.

"Ok, hold on now —Get Hershel!" Rick screamed at no one in particular. Panicked voices and parroting shouts coming in return.

My hands are shaking but not as much as my shoulders as I try to keep the tears out of my vision. My lungs compensating for the lack of breathing by trying to hyperventilate, but I won't let it.

Andrea dropped beside Rick and I let go of Dale's hand so she could hold onto him; reassurances spilling from her trembling lips. The same expression she held when she sat beside Amy, twisting tear stained features. An expression I regret to have seen more than once.

Dale's wild, wide eyes darted around in chaos filled with unimaginable torment.

The only yelling I can understand anymore is the desperate cries for Hershel, stamping feet of those who are caught in between with no clue what to do that isn't already being done, and heartbreaking promises of 'help' that can't be kept, and 'hang in there' that we all know can only prolong the inevitable.

Each one stabs like a knife through the deepest recesses, but what else can we do?

People aren't designed to admit defeat, even when we've already lost. We're taught to hold onto hope even there is none.

A strangled sob split from someone in the mess of things and all of the noise suddenly resonated in my ears, the underwater feeling flooding away like water from a damn, and leaving them ringing.

The sound flipped a switch, resembling that of a walker too much to not send my mind reeling back to the thing responsible.

My eyes rapidly flew around for any sign of more walkers that could be making their way towards us now. To take a bi

Empty fields of dark tall grass didn't ease the adrenaline pumping sweep I was trying to make around the members of the group.

I stood, pulling my knife when I saw something moving but as soon as I was up, there's another figure running alongside it and I recognized them. Patricia and Hershel.

Daryl spun around, looking as well in the same adrenaline pumped manner I am. 360 later and our eyes met, both of us shaking our heads, in light of our findings.

Even so, it didn't bring the usual relief.

Eyes catching on the walker laid out on the damp tall grass, I moved towards Daryl on the other side of Dale.

' _Where did this thing come from?'_

My hand tightened around the grip of my knife. The intense urge to throw it as hard as humanly possible into the skull of an already dead creature washed over me like a maverik.

The only thing that stopped me is Hershel finally parting the group like red sea. "What happened!?"

"What can we do?" I've never heard Rick so desperate and helpless —so utterly lost— before.

I found my hand seeking out anything to grab, that isn't myself. What it took hold of was Daryl's.

My head began to swim and I latched my focus onto the tight grip around my hand; possibly the only thing keeping me from launching into a full blown panic attack, as I try to take some semblance of control over my rampant lungs and stop the panic kicking my ass.

"Dale, it's gonna be okay." Glenn tried to reassure but his own desperation drove him to my side and I dropped my knife to the dirt beside my boot, taking his hand with my other.

He squeezed the life outta my grip and I held tightly; trying to provide as much comfort as I can, but he's probably helping me more than I am him right now.

The physical contact between the two of the people I trust most helping ground myself and keep my leveling head from tipping. It's almost poetic how touch used to be the thing sure to push me over, and here I am now... using it to hold me down.

"Can we move him?" Rick looked up to Hershel desperately.

The old vet set his hand on the deputy's shoulder. Eyes nothing but grave and sorrowful. "He won't make the trip."

"You have to do the operation here— Glenn get back to the house!—" Rick stood in a flurry but was cut off by Hershel standing with him, " _Rick._ "

The old man shook his head and that was the last straw for the entire group. Like a broken window scattering shards across a stone floor to be completely destroyed; turned to dust.

"No!" Rick shouted in desperate frustration. Harsh sobs and desperate choking cries seared the air like water in hot oil.

Andrea reduced to weeping, beside Dale who can't even speak; unable to get anything more than strangled gargled breaths through his throat. One of his organs dangerously close to spilling out of him.

Memories of our last night at the quarry camp, came flooding through my head.

The cold night air, the crying, the shouting from before, Carl clinging to his mother, everything. The only thing missing: gunshots.

"He's suffering." I looked at Andrea shaking with tears beside Dale.

"Do something!" her broken cry brought Rick's gun from it's holster at his thigh.

He stared down at Dale in grave sorrow and Daryl left my side, letting go of my hand.

I watched through blurry eyes, furiously trying to rub the tears away as he stepped in front of a struggling officer; taking the burdensome gun from his hand.

Glenn turned into my side and I wrapped my arms around him.

"It's okay to cry." I muttered into his ear and his shoulders began to shake.

He looks up to Dale like a father and to be honest… I think I might too. I don't know what it's like to have a father, but I'd like to think this is what's it's like. At least a father figure.

I don't know why I feel like a big sister, trying to be strong for my little brother, like in movies. But I hugged Glenn as tight as I could, trying to do exactly that.

Maggie came over to hug him from behind, and I moved my arm to include her too.

I watched Daryl kneel beside Dale's head, Rick's gun heavily in hand... and I shielded Glenn's eyes. He resisted a little but I pushed his head down against my shoulder as he cried.

He may be in his 20s but I don't want him to see this. To have this memory. No one should have to.

I rubbed the back of Maggie's head, smoothing her hair in comfort as she buried her own face against Glenn's back; both of them almost enclosed in my arms, if I could reach that far.

Dale stared up at Daryl and I watched him lift his head towards the gun; a silent plea to put an end to this.

"Sorry, brother." Daryl muttered, and Dale's mouth pressed into a smile.

 _ **Bang**_

My ears ring once again but I know that long after it fades, that sound like booming thunder, will echo inside me forever.


	89. Chapter 86

The cold air bite at my skin. The chilling metal from the RV roof pressed into my legs, cooling my legs to a frigid temperature even through my jeans, but none of it mattered.

My eyes stayed fixed on the dark sky, searching for the stars around the sparse groups of clouds rolling softly over the sky.

It's not cold enough for my breath to mist in front of me but the dampness of the air makes it feel as if ice crystals should be forming.

Every minute or so, I look around, keeping watch for the first time almost since we got here.

We haven't needed to until now.

And who better suited to do it than someone who won't be sleeping tonight anyway?

Also why I let Daryl use my tent. I'm not using it and even if I was, we've shared a tent before. It wasn't difficult to convince him it ain't a good idea to go back to his camp tonight. It's too far from the rest of us, and he'd be alone.

As much as we both share an adoration for being by ourselves, now is not the time.

Andrea's soft crying from below me finally ended about ten minutes ago. I actually miss the days when I could cry myself to sleep. At least I could still sleep then.

The RV ladder made a noise and I pulled my gun, looking down but _Rick_ is the last person I expected to see right now.

"Can we talk?" he kept his voice low, quiet; not wanting to disturb anyone who's managed to get themselves to sleep. Truthfully I don't think many of us actually are.

I nodded and he climbed up, taking my outstretched hand at the top before settling next to me, dropping his legs over the long side of the RV; mirroring myself.

I shifted, looking at him. Waiting for him to speak his mind. "I been thinkin' a lot about what he said. Dale. And what you said."

I watched his eyes roam the dark horizon, the barely visible fields. Rick's pretty easy to read when he's got something on his mind. He gets really quiet, almost me quiet, and he clamps his jaw shut; tightening it sometimes if he's wrestling with himself.

"I think it's time we let go of what used to be."

I tilted my head, confused but more interested in what he's thinking. I can take a guess that my face says it for me, 'What have you got in mind?'

"You know how to protect yourself better than anyone I've ever met. I came up here to talk about what we can do to make this place safer."

This, right here, Rick. Is why I trust you. These moments when you remind me you've got a good head on your shoulders. That you don't sit idle when waters get rough.

"We should start by figurin' out how that walker got 'ere."

We both looked over the edge at Daryl, staring up at us. And watched Glenn come up behind him, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Mind if I join?"

The corner of my lip pulled up and I motioned at them to come up, glancing at Rick who holds the look of leader once again.

The same look that's been wavering these last few days, but now it's set back in place. Confident. Identical to the one he had when he was set on rescuing Glenn in Atlanta and tried to convince us to head back.

"Here" Daryl took up a seat behind me, and I spun around, cross crossing my legs to face him. Only to find my knife in his palm, being held out to me.

My hand went to my thigh where it's supposed to be. How did I forget I gave it to him?

I took the blade, and a tension I didn't even realize was there lifted from my shoulders. Like a piece of my identity had just been returned to me.

I looked at him and he just stared back for a moment until Glenn settled next to him, across from Rick who also turned around. I nodded at him, feeling my cheek drag up; happy to have the soothing weight back by my side.

"Ok," All three of us turned to Rick, ready to take back the reins we dropped somewhere along the way.

* * *

The truck jostled, bumping my shoulders into T-Dog's on my left, and Daryl's on my right.

The property flicked by as we drove out to the farther corners, looking for holes in the fence.

The truck soon came to a stop and T-Dog grabbed the tool kit, while me & Daryl jumped out. Shane and Andrea exited the cabin, slamming the old blue doors.

Daryl and I acted as senteries for the others while they checked and repaired the fences.

Dale's funeral was early this morning and Rick gave a eulogy I honestly think Dale would've been proud of, but I can't stop thinking about what Rick said.

" _In the end, he was talking about losing our humanity. He said this group was broken. The best way to honor him is to unbreak it. Set aside our differences, and pull together. Stop feeling sorry for ourselves, take control of our lives. Our safety. Our future. We're not broken. We're gonna prove him wrong."_

Ever since then, even though it's only been a few hours at _most_ , things have already gotten more organized.

For the first time in weeks, it finally feels like we're getting our shit together.

Rick sent the five of us to check and repair any damaged fences and find any other walkers roaming the fields. The mud on the walker's pants was enough to tell us where to start. The creek. Where they normally get stuck.

When we got there, we found it drying up. And instead of walkers trapped in the mud, Daryl found tracks through it, heading onto the farm lands.

That's where we're headed now. Driving over the field, trying to find them.

All of a sudden T whistled and banged the side of the truck, pointing off the side.

I followed his finger to a number of dark silhouettes staggering towards something.

The truck slid to a stop, sliding on the gravel a bit but it didn't even stop before Daryl and T hopped out, me following right after.

Daryl fired his crossbow and I stepped around him, throwing my knife and watched the walker fall as it sank halfway through the forehead.

Andrea put a 4 pronged farming tool of some kind through another.

The remaining were taken out by T-Dog's hammer, Shane's shovel, and another of Daryl's arrows. Until there was only one left.

One which Shane knocked down, and proceeded to kick.

I leaned over, putting my boot on the throat of the one I took out, pulling my knife out of the thick skull with a gross ' _slick';_ watching the others kick the shit out of the walker.

Angry grunts and exhausted breaths accompanied every hit I watched them take on the walker. I stood back.

They're angry. Angry about Dale. Angry about this world. Trapped in cesspool of stress.

I didn't join in, but I didn't stop them either. I just kept watch while they all do what they gotta do.

Better they get this out now than to let it fester and feed into their actions later.

Finally they all backed off, Daryl circling back around to my side and Shane brought the shovel down on it.

* * *

"It'll be tight. 14 people in one house." I overheard Rick from where Daryl & I stand at the back of the truck.

"Don't worry about that. With the swamp hardening, the creek drying up…"

I followed Daryl over to the small gathering beside the truck, Rick, Shane, Maggie, Hershel, and Beth all discussing the plans Rick came up with last night.

I know it was last night because I helped him. Neither of us slept, and well… let's just say the top of the RV was pretty crowded when Daryl and Glenn found us both up there and joined our little planning session.

Heh, ironically it almost felt like that time back in Atlanta. Strategizing a suicide mission for that gun bag; which surprisingly, _no one_ died for. Not even G's people.

I wonder if those guys are still there? Are they holding out?

"With 50 head of cattle on the property, we might as well be ringin' a damn dinner bell." Couldn't have said it better myself, Mags.

"She's right. We should've moved you in a while ago."

To be honest, there's a lot of things we could've been doing or should have done a while ago. All that matters now is they're getting done. Finally.

"Alright," Rick's authoritative tone ended the discussion before it could side track us; bringing attention back to the tasks at hand. "Let's move the vehicles near each of the doors, facin' out towards the road."

"We'll build a lookout in the windmill, another in the barn loft. That should give us sightlines both sides of the property." Ah, my brain child of the midnight plans.

Simultaneous nods agreed before we started splitting off to do our assigned tasks.

Daryl and I stayed near the truck as Rick stopped T as he was passing by. "T-Dog, you take the perimeter around the house. Keep track of everybody comin' and goin'."

"Gotcha. What about standing guard?" T inquired.

"Eve, Daryl, I need you two on double duty."

We both nodded and I hopped into the truck bed, taking things that were passed to me; helping load all of our camp gear and supplies to be taken to the house.

"I'll stock the basement with food and water. Enough that we can all survive there a few days if need be." Hershel came around the back and I took the plastic crates from him, stacking them up securely with the other stuff.

"What about patrols?" Andrea handed me a pile of blankets and went over to stand beside Rick and Shane on the left side of the vehicle.

"Ey, pull that over some" Daryl pointed, leaning over the right side and I pulled a larger box over, watching him stuff a few of the bagged tents in the corner.

We are quite the tetris masters here. Camp is almost completely packed up and 90% of it is right here but the truck's only half full.

"Let's get this area locked down first." Rick answered the blonde. "After that, Shane'll assign shifts while me and Daryl take Randall offsite and cut him loose."

Oh this is gonna turn into a shit fight.

Daryl whistled at me shortly and I nodded, jumping off the side of the truck; my knees acting like springs in absorbing the momentum.

Last night during our talks, I decided it's best to opt out of these fights. It's pointless trying to stop them. All that's ever come out of that is getting wrapped up in the web with them. It's better if I keep to the outside with a blowtorch in case I need to shut something down.

And if Rick can't handle his partner, no one else can without things getting ugly.

I'll keep an eye out, from a distance. Rick said he'd handle Shane, and I believe he can, as long as the rest of us start cooperating and are too occupied with more important things to even wanna poke at more drama.

Drama comes from boredom. Can't be bored if you got too much to do.

"I'mma move my bike, meet ya up at the house." I nodded and went to pack up the rest of my stuff, as Daryl broke off from me.

My packing is pretty simple. I just stuffed my things back into my backpack and took down my tent before tossing that and the bag over my shoulders.

My backpack is pretty full though, and the strap is wearing. I should look for a new one as soon as I can. A bigger one; more durable if possible. There's gotta be plenty of packs lying around. Packs meant for the outdoors, or possibly even military grade if I can find something like that.


	90. Chapter 87

**Yeah so I'm on a roll today. This chapters about 2-300 words shy of 3,000...**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

I caught up to Rick and Hershel heading towards the house; Andrea not far from them, as T-Dog drove the truck up to the house.

I can see Carl on the porch from here, looking at his shoes and honestly, he looks scared. I don't think he and Dale were very close but, to see someone you know ripped open like that…

It's gotta be worse for him than the rest of us. I don't think Carl's even killed a walker, much less a person before.

This is the world we live in now. No shelters, no looking away, no kid gloves, no protection aside from the spaces we clear and actively keep that way, ourselves.

I think I'm gonna ask Rick & Lori's permission to teach him. I can't stomach the thought that last night could have been any one of us. We thought this place was safe, so we let people wander freely but… what if it had been Carl wandering in that field?

We could have been digging a much smaller grave this morning. It could have been him, could have been my dumb ass laying in the field, Daryl in the shed with Randall; Anybody in camp or outside who looked the wrong way, at the wrong moment.

It helps no one if even one person alive today, doesn't know how to take care of themselves. At the very least in an emergency.

Carl already knows how to use a gun, but he's small. That can either be a death sentence, or an advantage.

He's just a kid but most walkers are full sized adults. If they get ahold of him... there's very little a boy his size could do, to get them off. It would be better _for him_ if a gun isn't his only protection. I wanna teach him how to be fast, unnoticed. And how to break free from a grip.

It might be selfish but _I'll_ feel better knowing he can at the very least get away, should something happen.

I've been thinking about teaching him all kinds of things in passing for a while now, but this morning during the funeral... it hit me. How defenseless he really is. How defenseless most of the group is.

I can only name a few who I know can handle themselves in an up close and personal fight without a gun.

I shouldn't be able to name anyone who _can't_.

Daryl's loud motorcycle passed me and I almost jumped finding Andrea on my right. I didn't even notice she was catching up to me a second ago.

The sunlight shifted around her blonde hair every step; lighting the side of her face, and casting shadows over her brown jacket, the fluffy white underside bouncing soft light onto the underside of her face.

She's been attacked at least twice that I recall and couldn't defend herself. I opened my mouth, taking a breath to speak before Rick's voice behind us pulled both our attentions.

"Andrea, Eve."

Both of us turned, pausing our steps to let Rick and Hershel catch up.

"When I'm out with Daryl, help Hershel keep an eye on things around here." Rick glanced at Andrea.

I nodded, catching exactly what he means by that. He's nervous about leaving Shane to reign while they're out. There are only so many people here who can deal with Shane, and two of the small number are gonna be gone for the better part of a day.

I'll be the only person here who can deal with Shane. Not for lack of capability, but because I don't look to him for direction like the others. Neither does Daryl, but we both respect Rick. Which is why he's going with Rick and I'm not.

"Me?" Andrea continued her pace beside Rick, while I matched their pace next to Hershel.

"Shane's got a way of letting things get out of hand," Rick paused. "especially when he's all torqued up."

"I think we're all a little bit _torqued_ up at this point." If I didn't know better, I'd think she was dissing him just then.

"If you're staying here permanently," Hershel interjected. "he's got to understand that it's what Rick & I say, not whatever he wants."

"You've become close." Care to share what you mean by that, Rick?

Andrea stopped, cocking her hip and staring at him in a more or less justified pinched scowl. "We talk."

"Then you know he's not a bad guy," Are we still talkin' about the same Shane? "he's just his own worst enemy."

Andrea looked between them, incredulously. "You want me to babysit Shane?"

"I need to make sure every time I leave the farm, all Hell doesn't break loose." Rick stepped closer to her.

Wow a near simultaneous bullshit cut. We really are getting our shit together.

"Then maybe you should stop leaving." Andrea fired back. Ooof, ouch. Hitting where it hurts, aren't ya?

Seriously though, you've _gotta_ know that's not always gonna be possible, right?

If we can't function in the absence of a single person, then we're doomed from the start.

Andrea started away, leaving the three of us standing here.

"Will you keep an eye on things?" Rick called after her.

"Of course" She makes it sound like he should've known she would, despite arguing against him just now.

Rick glanced at us two, and I gave my best 'no idea' face, shrugging and shaking my head. I honest to god never understand what's going through that woman's head.

I started off again, the other two following me in silence but for once since we've been on this property, it's not tense.

This is no longer a circus; no more elephants in the room.

I'm glad Rick reconsidered killing the boy.

We talked about it a little last night, just the four of us on the RV. I know my wanting to spare the kid is… a bit irrational.

It was out of character, which I suspect is why they brought it up last night in the first place, but it seems my reason was misunderstood.

Yes, I do see certain similarities between his situation and one I've been in myself, but that's not why I want him to live. It's more risky to keep him alive.

I kinda… want to remind the group why we don't kill people just for the heck of it. It's kind of a dick move but I was using the kid to fight Shane's way of thinking.

That killing everyone we come across is the way to go. That's a good way to make enemies in a world where we can't afford to get on people's bad sides.

Walkers are one thing, but people seek revenge. And there's no way to know if someone's out for you now until they've already found you.

If I hadn't allowed my emotions to get involved, maybe that would've gotten across a lot better, and maybe we could have avoided the landfill we dug up in reaching this decision.

Maybe Dale wouldn't a been in that field.

I walked over to Daryl, cleaning his crossbow by his bike near the porch and held my fist up to Carl leaning over the railing just above us.

Carl fist bumped me, but with a worrisome lack of enthusiasm before he went inside.

"Daryl, Eve," Rick motioned us over as he moved away from the porch. We off to the side with him, sharing a look between us. "Think you can do something about the rafters in the shed?"

"Why?" Daryl voiced my confusion.

"Carl got in through 'em a while ago." _He what!?_

"If he can get in," Rick didn't even finish the sentence before Daryl & I both nodded.

Daryl pat his arm, a way of saying 'we'll take care of it' already heading off, and I followed without prompt.

"Thank you." Rick gave a grateful nod, and I waved my hand in acknowledgment.

What was Carl doing, going in there? Was Randall in there when he did? Why didn't I hear about this?

"You grab the tools, I got the wood."

I nodded and split off from Daryl to jog over to the truck back in front of the porch, and grab that toolbox we were using this morning.

It should already have nails in it but I'll double check for the sake of not having to make a return trip.

Looks like the others have already started clearing it. Should Lori be doing that though? Aren't you supposed to like, chill while you're pregnant?

"Whoa. Don't— don't strain yourself." T-Dog came outta the house fast, taking a heavy blue bin from Lori at the side of the truck.

"Thank you." Lori softly pat him on the shoulder, with a grateful smile.

"Rick and Carl and I are taking the corner of the living room."

I smiled at Lori as she looked back over. I swear I wasn't trying to scare her but she still jumped when she saw me.

My face squished into a sheepish grimace, kinda glancing at her tummy as I stopped around the back of the bed.

She waved me off. "You're fine, I'm just a bit… jumpy, after last night."

I glanced at my feet, nodding before refocusing on my task.

We didn't take the toolbox out of here as far as I know, so unless someone moved it, it's gotta be somewhere under all this.

"You can put that in my room." Hershel opened the screen door for T-Dog.

"You'll be more comfortable there." He came down the porch steps to the truck.

"We can't do that." Lori shook her head.

"A pregnant woman and child sleeping on the floor while I've got a bed to myself?" I kinda thought they would take that spare room but I guess that's kinda turned into a… hospital room of sorts.

Unless that's not a spare room and everyone getting hurt just kinda took over it. Were we kicking someone out of their room all this time?

"This is still your house." Lori argued weakly, but she sounds exhausted. She needs to sit down for awhile.

We can't sleep on the floor forever though. It'll get freezing over the winter.

Speaking of which, we need more blankets too, and a bunch of other stuff. Maybe we should look for some clean mattresses to bring in. I gotta make a list to give to Rick so he can organize a run. He mentioned no one should be leaving the property without notice anymore. And I gotta say, I agree. It got us into a lot of trouble before.

"It's _our_ home."

I froze. My hand stopping short of the box I was just about to grab.

 _Home..._

' _Welcome to your new home, Evelyn. These are your sisters.'_

"I'll take the couch downstairs." Hershel smiled at her. "On nights when I came home reeking of bourbon, my wife would lock the bedroom door."

T-Dog came back out and came around the truck, grabbing another box.

"Ey,"

I snapped my eyes over to T-Dog, backpedalling from him.

"You ok?" his eyebrows twitched down, looking at me.

My lips parted but all I did was nod and look back towards the piles of stuff, swallowing.

I can feel his eyes on me as I shifted another box, still not finding what I'm after.

"Sad to say that couch and I became old friends." Hershel finished his story as T-Dog moved around him.

"If you two can't decide, I'll take it." T hoisted another box onto the one he already had.

Lori smiled, and I stood there uncomfortably, trying (and failing) not to chew my lips.

"...Ya mind grabbing the door for me?" T looked at me. Thank Merlin, he isn't gonna press.

I nodded and moved around the other two.

"Thank you." Lori pat Hershel's arm and I moved to lunge up the steps almost the second T-Dog started walking, and grabbed the door for him.

"The couch is mine." Hershel called after us, even though T's barely halfway up the steps, ten feet from him.

"It's gonna get real cozy _real_ fast in here." T muttered and I snorted, nodding. A truer statement has never been spoken.

I pointed away from the house as I pat his shoulder and he nodded. "Later. Oh hey— before ya go."

I stopped, one foot on a higher step than the other, and looked back over my shoulder. "Rick told me to tell ya, you got first watch tonight."

I gave a brief nod with a thumbs up before going back to the truck and finding that kit in a hurry, before hauling this heavyass toolbox out to the shed.

I don't know why just the mention of that word makes me so… restless. Makes my legs burn to run, but it just… I don't have the best associations with 'home'.

It makes me anxious. Like I gotta stay alert.

I hope to Merlin my 'spot' inside the house is by a wall. Close to, or in view of the door, would be ideal.

I looked around when I got to the shed, but Daryl isn't here yet. And for some reason that made it a little harder to breathe. The toolbox began to rattle a little bit and I looked down, noticing my hands starting to shake.

Oh no. No no no no no— I dropped the toolbox, looking around, to maybe see if he was just around the corner but he's not here.

I grabbed my hand, feet carrying me into the openness of the field, and I spun around, looking for anything that could be near me.

Breathe, Eve. Breathe.

I forced a shaking breath in through my nose, letting it out of my mouth.

Again.

In… out.

Check. Nothing around me. Again. In… out.

My nose burned a little from the dry air, my tongue darted over my drying lips. My chest constricted, strangling my windpipe. The wind chilled the already cold sweat breaking out on my neck and forehead.

Check. Nothing's ther— Daryl.

My eyes fixed on the side of the house where the blue eyed man was stacking up some boards, before bracing them over his shoulder and heading this way.

The tension in my shoulders dropped a little but only to migrate my legs, moving forward without my permission.

Walking didn't cut it, my heart hammered against my already painful chest and I was running before even realizing it.

Daryl dropped the wood as I got closer, looking between me and the shed. "What happened?"

I stopped in front of him, looking around again. I can't stop myself. "No—nothing"

Daryl looked me over and growled, "Bullshit"

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

"Ur havin' an attack, aren't ya?" I watched her mouth open but nothing came out except shaking panicked breaths and her eyes darted wildly.

Crap, what did Hershel do— what he say to do when this happens?

' _Don't touch 'er unless she says so. Help her focus on 'er breathin'.'_

" _Daryl,_ " Eve grabbed at her chest, her eyes —like her skin— turning a stinging angry red with unshed tears.

"Ey, look at me." I tried to say it as calm as I could, tryna copy how Hershel was before when he helped 'er. Chaotic amber eyes fixed on mine as I put my hand up, but not touching her.

"Breathe. Come on, you know how to do this."

Eve forced a tight breath through 'er nose, almost sounding like she's sniffling as it caught in her throat. She coughed, but did it again even though she was looking around again.

"Yer gon' be fine," I tried to bring her attention back and it worked, but her fingers wrapped around my hovering wrist, her own landing in my palm.

"Breathe." Her eyes fixed on my chest, and her breaths started to slow down, become more spread out. Just like last time we did this; Trying to match her breathing to mine.

Her hand has got a death grip on my wrist, but she's still looking around.

What the Hell happened? She just went to get a toolbox and was s'posed to head to the shed. Then she comes tearin' towards me outta nowhere, havin' a goddamn panic attack.


	91. Chapter 88

It took almost ten minutes for 'er to calm down, and just like last time, her hands are still shakin' even though she seems ok now.

At least 'er eyes aren't flickerin' like a light switch no more. She doesn't sound like she's choking neither.

She finally let go of my hand — pretty sure that's gonna bruise — and pushed her hair outta 'er face.

I hesitated but if this could happen again, I need to know. "What happened?"

"Nothin' just… " Eve motioned to her head, winding her finger in a crazy motion. "me, stuff."

I stared, waiting and watched her shift. I can almost countdown to when she'll crack and tell me, now.

As predicted, ten seconds later she sighed biting her lip. "I... Lori & Hershel were talking and it —wasn't their fault— but they said something. A word… that doesn't exactly bring a warm fuzzy feeling."

Warm fuzzy feeling?

I wracked my brain cannot for the life of a me, think of a word that has that but all I can focus on his the fact she just had a panic attack cause of a word. Can that really happen just cause of a word — apparently cause it just did.

"What..." I trailed off, rethinking mid-sentence about askin' what word it was. "Nevermind, it don't matter. You good?"

She hesitated but nodding, getting firmer towards the end. Her eyes caught over my wrist and a grimace pulled across 'er face. "Sorry"

I glanced at it, seeing the red hand shaped bruise already forming around 5 small crescent shaped marks. I waved her off, "Ya don't gotta be, it's alright. Come on," I jerked my head, picking up the planks again.

Eve stacked a couple in her arms and followed.

* * *

 **Eve's POV**

I set the boards down and walked around the shed looking for the ladder that should be over here somewhere, I've seen it before. It'll get real annoying if we have to boost each other up and down.

How did Carl even get up there? Monkey child. Maybe he doesn't need me to teach him how to climb trees after all. Heck, he could probably teach me a thing or two.

I found it on the backside and picked up the wooden ladder, is this thing safe? It doesn't look rotten or rickety or anything.

I stood it up and put my foot on the bottom step, stomping hard. Not even a shift. I think it's ok. We'll just be cautious. Falling off a ladder nowadays — even from just a few feet — could be a death sentence, if you get unlucky.

Given our streak as of late, I'm not sure we've got a whole lot of that left.

* * *

I pushed the wood plank as high up as I can reach, Daryl crouching on the edge of the slight overhang to take it before nailing it over the others.

I looked around the property at all the trees started to turn yellow, a few dots of orange here and there.

Today is like the definition of fall. I don't know if it's October yet, but that tingly sense I always get around Halloween is starting to creep up.

It's amazing how conditioned your body will get to something when you buy shit tons of sweets on a particular day every year and then proceed to eat them until you're sick.

I have a frickin' biological countdown to 'chow day' now.

"Alright" Daryl sighed, shaking the wood one more time before dusting his hands off. "That should do it."

He passed the hammer & nails to me, and I put them back in the box while he climbed down and took down the ladder.

With that done we headed back up to the house to help out with anything else that's gotta be done. I like battening down the hatches. Menial but important tasks make for good distractions right now.

"Take him out to Senoia — hour there, hour back, give or take." Rick pointed on the map and Daryl leaned over it next to him.

I sat on the porch just behind them where they stood leaning over the railing, softly strumming Glenn's guitar while they discuss their plan to cut Randall loose. I don't technically need to be here for this but just in case something goes wrong — which with our track record, it will — and we need to go find them, I'll know what their plan was and I'm confident enough in my ability to understand how both of these men think that if they do get in trouble or divert from their plan at any point along the way, I can probably figure out where and how should I need to.

"We may lose the light, but we'll be halfway home by then." Rick glanced at the sky.

"This little pain in the ass will be a distant memory." Daryl pushed off the rail, walking around for a second. I wanna say pacing but he does it too often for that to be the case. It's more like alleviating restlessness.

"Good riddance." he sat on the rail where he was previously leaning, glancing at my strumming. I'm not really playing anything, I don't wanna distract them — or myself. It's just a few chords that sound good together.

"Carol's puttin' together some provisions for 'im. Enough to last a few days." Rick looked out across the farm. This place is so much bigger than it feels, I forget that sometimes but from right here, you can really see it. Acres of land in a complete radius around the house before it meets the forest. Which I'm not sure if any of it is apart of the Greene's land but I've always assumed their land ends at the 'trespass it's your ass' signs on the far fences which we (I) keep hopping.

"Eve," Rick turned and I paused my playing to give my full attention, resting my arms over the guitar.

"While we do this, I want you to go check the creek. I wanna know how dry it is and if there are any walkers that need to be taken care of but be cautious. Quick and quiet, no fuss. If there are walkers that need taking care of, don't do it alone. Come back and take T, Glenn, or Andrea out there with you." Yes chef.

An engine drew all three of our attention to the dirt track leading up to the house where Shane in the pastel metallic green sedan is driving back from building a lookout post in the windmill, per Rick's instructions.

"I'm leavin' you, and Shane in charge. If anything happens," Rick glanced at Shane and I nodded as soon as he looked back, before he could continue.

Keep Shane in check, is what I'm hearing.

Rick returned the gesture before looking back out at the fields and watching the car approaching on the dirt path.

I should check the creek before they leave in a few minutes. Hershel can probably handle things for a little while just after they take off while I check the creek, but I don't wanna leave Shane in charge for too long. The longer Rick's gone, the more he'll feel comfortable taking control and acting up, and the more likely it is the group will listen to him over someone else but not if I'm present.

I brought this group together, I've saved the lives of everyone here more times than Shane or Rick combined. They can argue about who's in charge all they want, when it comes down to it in a life or death — or any threatening — situation no one will second guess me, or wonder if it's really the best course of action or if someone "in charge" is gonna disagree and berate them for it later.

"That thing you did last night," Rick looked at Daryl, tapping the railing with the tip of the map.

"Ain't no reason you should have to do all the heavy liftin'." Daryl squinted at him in the light, even though the porch is shaded, from his place sat on the porch railing.

Shane pulled up a distance from the house, the green car coming to a stop a lot faster than necessary.

"So you good with all this?" Rick waved the map, not taking his eyes off his partner who is just out of earshot.

"I don't see you and I tradin' haymakers on the side a the road. Nobody'd win that fight." That's probably true.

Daryl took the map, going to look over it again but he glanced at me when I stiffened because Shane got out and started walking this way.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder and dropped the map in front of Rick again. "I'mma take a piss"

I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder, raising the guitar and both of us got lost as fast as we could.

Both of us slipped inside and I returned the guitar to Glenn, but just looking around these rooms, packed with the whole group and so many people moving about… I swallowed.

I really hope this doesn't feel as claustrophobic as it's looking because if so, it's gonna be a rough winter.

I checked my gear and made my way out the back door of the house.

Daryl and T-Dog glanced up from the short steps, and I'd be lying if I said I'm not a little surprised. It's kinda rare to see these two alone together, or maybe that's just because I'm usually accompanying Daryl in the first place.

"You leavin'?" Daryl glanced at my gear as I adjusted the strap on my thigh sheath; It's a been getting a little tighter every few weeks since this started and I know it's not because I've been eating well. Running builds an awful lot of muscle definition in the area right where this strap is. It'd be awesome if someday I could crush a watermelon between my thighs.

"Where?" T looked between us, confused.

"She's goin' to check the creek." Daryl answered and after a second of confusion T-Dog nodded, getting why this is kinda important.

It's probably a good thing these two are standing back here. I would've forgotten to let T — or anyone else aside from maybe Daryl — know I'm leaving like we're supposed to from now on.

I slipped past them and started off but not a second later Daryl called, "Don't fall in a hole!"

I turned, tempted to flip him the bird but ugh…mmm I can't because it happened. He could stop rubbing it in though.

I settled on a two fingered salute before actually getting gone to go finish up this task, asap.

If I'm fast, I can probably get it done inside of 10-20 minutes. 30 at most, if there are things to take care of — but for the love of gingersnap cookies, I am watching my goram step.


	92. Chapter 89

**Ok so, I am literally moving the _other side_ of the country at the end of this week, and driving the whole way. So I might not be able to publish for the next 2 Monday's - but I'm still going to try.**

 **They could just be published later in the week when I have a decent enough internet connection and time to write, or they might not happen at all. If that ends up being the case, I will update twice once I'm settled in the new place to make up for the loss (and maybe a bonus 3rd as an apology/reward for your patience).**

* * *

Well, my own boots are kinda sticking to the ground and every leaf on it, so that's a good sign.

I scanned the trees with every quiet step over wet leaves just starting to crisp up enough that it's making it difficult to move as quietly as I'm used to.

I readjusted my grip on my knives, licking my dry lips.

Even though the sun is out and shining the cold is biting at my skin through my jacket. Leather helps with fending off teeth — and you know, looking cool — but not so much with cold weather. If it were windy maybe but not an all around temperature free fall.

Autumn is deceptive. Cause things don't look like they should be this cold while the sun is out but then you step outside and it's like ' _I'm sorry, did you want that sunshine to be warm¿ Tough._ '

I shivered, tucking my elbows a little closer to my sides. I need to get more layers asap, cause this is only gonna get worse. For all we know it could start snowing any day now. By next week we could be trudging through knee deep snow, wondering if there's a walker just lying under the fresh powder waiting for something to step on it like a landmine.

I'll bet we start seeing frost in the mornings as early as tomorrow. I thought I saw a little bit this morning but I got up kinda late so I don't know.

As soon as Rick & Daryl get back today, we need to talk about those winter-stock up runs and decide when to go; preferably sooner rather than later given the drastic turns in weather.

There's a lot a things we need that we don't have, or at least don't have enough of. Like blankets, properly storing food so we don't starve in case there's a bad storm, snow gear, gloves, ground salt would be amazing — oh and _snow tires_ even more so. Even just chains we can hook around the car wheels to give more traction would be better than what we've got right now.

The woods are as quiet as ever though, thankfully — maybe even more so than usual.

The only sounds I've noticed are the occasional wind rustled leaves, birds overhead and sometimes in the wilting bushes, and strangely cicadas still. I didn't think they would still be around this late in the season but then again, I don't know that much about bugs.

It's the absent sounds that are more concerning for me at the moment. I can't hear any water or even skittering from possible furry critters. The ground floor of the forest is oddly quiet and at first it set me on edge but now I'm starting to think it's just wildlife shifting between seasons. Preparing for the harsher climate.

That's how I definitely know winter is just around the corner. First to know are the animals. Their instinct for it is much better than our own, so using them is a good benchmark to go by when we don't have anything more accurate at our disposal.

It wasn't long before I came up on the riverbed. I almost didn't recognize it if it wasn't for my boot getting stuck.

Oh this isn't good.

My eyes trailed up and down in both directions, following a barely discernible muddy path. It's completely dry already. There are no walkers here, but seeing this now, I'm not so sure that's a good sign.

I pulled my foot out of the mud, careful not to lose my shoe.

I'm not the best tracker but I know what to look for in this case. None of these foot holes look like they've been disturbed in awhile. They're all dry and crusty except for the one I just made which looks much softer. It's pretty easy to tell when you put them side by side like this.

I was actually starting to think I walked past it before I stepped in it.

Looking around one more time, I turned to head back but stopped, thinking. If this spot is dried up but still wet enough to stick, maybe it isn't all dry.

I started down the creek a little ways, looking for any signs of moisture still in the bed. The woods are eery when they're this quiet. It's starting to creep me out. Big time.

Maybe I should hurry this up.

* * *

20 or so odd minutes ticked by and nothing's caught my attention aside from a trash panda _demon_ that scared the shit outta me but I most certainly did not almost stab it, or more or less run away, or run faster when it chased me, and I was most definitely not grateful no one was out here to see a grown ass woman who can take down handfuls of walkers at a time run away from something barely the size of a small dog.

Of course nothing like that happened.

I checked behind me again to make sure it was gon— for walkers. Yeah. Walkers are dangerous, you know. They sneak up on you. Which is exactly why I'm checking the ground too because — hey not all walkers have legs or can walk.

It's important not to overlook these things.

I chewed my lips, checking behind me again and up into trees a little just to be sure cause you never know.

I like the woods in summer more. When there's more green and less… haunted tree limbs, risk of stepping through a spider's web, and skittery dead leaves that sound like something running after you instead of just the wind.

I huffed a sigh, stopping as I checked my surroundings again. I better get back. I've already been out too long and I think it's safe to say the entire creek is dried up.

Thank goodness we weren't relying on it for water, if we were, we'd be in deep trouble.

How many wells did the Greene's say they've got on their land? 5? And they use maybe 2-3 of them — not just for the house but for the cattle as well.

Those could be a problem soon, or they could be a salvation. If we run out of food during the winter but those cattle are still alive, we might not starve to death. But if they attract more walkers like they've already been doing…

I watched my step as I started away from the creek, watching for holes, walkers, furry _creatures_ , and anything else that might be lurking out here.

It's funny how easy it is to forget that nature is a harsh place when you live with so much technology. How many generations has it been since things like electricity, running clean water, even actual bathrooms weren't just given things the majority of the population had access to?

I stopped suddenly, hearing something that is most definitely not natural. It sounds like… like _talking._

Wait a second.

My eyes widened as my feet carried me towards a massive rock blocking my view to the source of the familiar noise and the moment I stepped around it, the atmosphere stiffened like pipes freezing and my fists clenched as I stopped in my tracks.

* * *

 **3rd Person POV**

"You're gonna like it with us." Randall hobbled over the uneven ground, his tied wrists swinging as he did so. "Get's a little crazy sometimes but it's a tough bunch of guys."

"You'll fit in good." he rambled on, not watching where he was going other than the ground directly in front of him, glancing back at the man behind him on occasion as he lead him through the woods.

It was a risk trusting the man after he dragged him out here. Randall thought he was gonna try to kill him again but he never would've guessed the man to want to join his group; especially after everything's that's gone down between his group and Randall's.

As soon as they get back to Randall's people, set up just off the highway, about five miles from here, he'll finally be home free. No more wonderin' if the person who's stepped into that shed is gonna hurt him, or just not care. The only person who was any sort of nice to him since he's been 'ere is that one girl who helped save his life and brought him food and stuff.

She ain't much of a talker though, he noticed that. Not even with 'er own people from what he could tell. But she stopped that dude from punching his lights out a few days ago. That's more than the blonde chick who just shouted "Back off" at this dude behind him when he tried to shoot him the other day for talkin' to the kid who got in through the roof somehow.

"Less talkin' more walkin'." Shane walked backwards, checking to make sure no one had seen him and they weren't being followed. He isn't too worried about having been seen getting off the farm. The only person he couldn't account for before he left though is the most dangerous.

That's the last thing he needs right now. Someone finding him with the prisoner, especially someone like Daryl, Rick, or god forbid Evelyn.

Before, he thought she would've been ok with killing the kid. Might've even been with him on it but ever since Sophia ran off — she… something happened to her. It's like all of a sudden she went soft and started bein' all 'every life is important' like Dale or some shit.

She can't possibly want this asshole to actually join them. She's gotta know that's just a stupid idea. He and his buddies tried to kill her, Glenn, Hershel, and Rick. And she wanted to save his life? Man — tch, somethin's definitely wrong with 'er these days.

"Look, I run my mouth when I get nervous." Randall continued, ignoring Shane's direction. "I can't help it,"

Shane turned back, wanting to pop his neck off his shoulders right here and decided in the moment that this is far enough.

As soon as he reached up, Randall started and froze like a deer in headlights.

A glint over the boy's shoulder immediately caught Shane's attention and he locked eyes with the _last_ thing he wanted to see.

An entire herd of walkers like the one from the highway would've been better over the steady lethal amber fixed on him.

Cold sunlight cast dangerous gleams off acute sharp-edged knives grasped in two tight capable fists.

" _You best have a damn good explanation for this, Officer."_


	93. Chapter 90

Shane went for his gun and Eve's arm snapped like a whip sending the knife in her grasp hurtling straight at his head.

Randall yelped, falling to the side as the knife whizzed past him. Shane barely managed to duck to the side the blade slicing across his shoulder tearing a yelp from grit teeth instead of planting itself through his forehead.

His gun tumbled from his grasp into the dead leaves coating the forest floor and he went for it again but Eve threw the other clutched blade.

It sliced across the back of Shane's hand ripping another yell from his lips before he could get to his piece but that was the least of his worries as Eve's hand came cracking down on his shoulder, aiming for his jugular.

Out of pure reflex, Shane's muscled arm barely got high enough in time to block the hit.

His fist barreled towards Eve's gut in a powerful uppercut, and she jumped out of range, barely escaping the hit by the skin of her teeth.

Eve dropped to the ground, hands bracing against the dirt as her leg came swinging for his ankles.

Shane backpedaled over a log on the uneven ground but realized too late the move he'd dodged was a simply meant to distract him, Eve's hand was wrapped around the handle of her knife.

He snatched the very log that tried to trip him and blocked the slice that came at him.

Shane cried out as Eve's knee smashed into his side, digging in.

Shane's arm clamped over her leg and offset her balance as he pulled her forward.

She brought her knife down on his head, aiming directly for his eye and the officer saw the glint off the razor-sharp tip glint right before it sank straight through the wood that flew out of pure reflex to protect his face.

The same tip pierced out the other side reentering his sight before he twisted the log wrenching the deadly object from her grasp.

Both objects hurdled towards the ground as Eve tried to block the fist coming at her stomach but Shane pulled up on her leg as his torso twisted packing as much power behind it as he could.

The air rushed from Eve's lungs as hard knuckles buried into the side of her rib cage, crushing barely healed flesh with skin wrapped bone.

"You once told me killing might be necessary for survival! Yet ur defending this little prick over your own?!" Shane hit her again.

Randall scrambled away from the fight, crawling towards the bushes — trying not to draw any attention whatsoever.

The tiny branches scratched him as he slid under the scraggly bushes holding out against the fall and refusing to just die like the tree leaves.

He cradled his leg where his wounds reopened, fresh blood seeping into the dirt and his filthy torn pants.

He watched the fight from the shrubbery, the kind of fights he used to watch on the internet but in reality he's barely able to keep up with what was going on — the only thing he knew for certain is they both look like they know what they're doing — he wouldn't be surprised if they've got training — in fact he'd be more surprised if they didn't.

Another shot to her side and Eve's elbow cracked against the side of Shane's skull before the next one could land.

" _Aah!_ " Shane dropped her leg, staggering as his vision blurred.

Eve nearly fell with her leg but was fast enough that she ended up only spinning until it was planted on the ground again. Her hand immediately cradled her side but with a split second sharp inhale, she swung her leg while the bigger male was disorientated.

The tip of her boot jammed into his gut, knocking him off his feet with another cry.

Eve spun as the momentum died and staggered getting her foot back on the ground again without falling.

She panted, sweat dripping down her temple now. "I kill to survive. Not murder for convenience."

A boot collided with her stomach not a second later, Eve snapping forward with the impact and lost all ability to breathe as she felt her still unhealed ribs bend inwards.

She could almost feel the new fishers splinter the suspected cracked bones and she dropped, unable to keep her legs underneath her.

Her elbows hit the ground hard, barely stopping her from braining herself on a jagged rock but the pain springing from the impact paled to the lightning spiderweb of shooting pain ripping through her side.

Eve gasped trying to rush oxygen to her lungs but every slight muscle twitch sent a new spike through her abused torso and added fuel to the burn sprouting from red & purple painted flesh.

" _Yuaaaaa!_ " Shane tackled the woman barely dragging herself to her knees.

Knocked to the ground, they wrestled. Being stabbed by rocks and cut by sticks, each tried to get some kind of upper hand over the other, anything that would put the other at a disadvantage.

Shane continuously tried to pin Eve, his size over the woman being his biggest advantage but getting a hold of the crafty smaller woman — even though she's hurt — proved to be more difficult than getting out of Atlanta when the bombs were dropping.

Eve however, finally found the upper hand she was looking for and allowed her left arm to be pinned.

His eyes barely reached the corner of his vision before he saw her right arm reeled back; fingers curled tight enough to turn white around a small rock in her palm.

Eve's knuckles smashed into his eye socket, feeling Shane's eyeball squish against her protruded middle knuckle; eyelids trying to close around the object already crushing the mushy organic opticle as his head snapped away.

Her fist drew back, everything looked like it was happening in slow motion as she jack-hammered his face with sucker punch after sucker punch.

Until she finally hit hard enough that he was flung off her with the aid of her knee on his stomach.

Scrambling to her feet, Eve's hand searched desperately for what should be at her back but here eyes widened when her fingers touched nothing but her own skin.

Eyes whirled around before fixing on the gun in the dirt just a few feet away from Shane. _Her_ gun — which should be at her back, in her waistband.

Shane staggered to his feet, seething dark eyes fixing on her. The dangerous male blocking her path to literally every single weapon out here aside from a stick that would snap like a toothpick, and the small rock still in her palm.

His fist came flying at her right and she moved to avoid right before she noticed what she stood next to.

Her gaze set, ducking to the side instead and wrapped her arm around the inside of his swing.

She trapped his forearm under her armpit, ducking under it and grabbed the back of his head, using his own momentum and strength against him Eve swung/slammed the gorilla with as much force as she could straight into the tree; face first.

Eve — and even Randall — heard the snap echo. Shane's nose squirted blood all over the bark as he cried out and Eve let go of him, letting his own weight drag him to the floor.

Her eyes flickered over the surroundings, rapid to check for more danger but froze for half a second, realizing Randall was gone.

Shane groaned and without even looking, she lunged for her gun.

The falling sensation in her gut was the only warning she got before reflexive arms extended to catch her.

The reflex did it's job but the odd angle plus an already compromised torso had her cheek smashing into the forest floor anyway — even though the impact was greatly lessened it hurt no less.

Shane's iron grip around her ankle tightened to a blood-flow severing level and dragged her back towards him. His other hand searching for anything nearby before it wrapped around a heavy grey rock, almost too big to fit in his fist.

Eve's ankles crossed over each other, trapping Shane's hand as she flipped over, intending to twist his arm like a crocodile but she barely saw the rock coming before an alarming ' _crack_ ' echoed from her skull.

* * *

 **Alright guys, sorry if this is a bit _rockier_ (sorry not sorry) than my normal stuff but as most of you know, I am on the road and didn't have much time for editing but I gave it my best.**


	94. Chapter 91

Randall jumped, his mouth dropped open as the woman hit the ground with a ' _Thud'_ and didn't move.

A red river poured over her forehead and Shane heaved; knelt over the still form of a woman he actually once respected, on the same level as he respected his partner.

Eve reminded him a lot of Rick when things first started. And it appears she is… _was,_ too much like him.

Randall covered his mouth with his hand, part of him convinced the man standing over the woman glaring at the limp body like a gladiator, could hear him breathing even from this distance.

A growling breath rushed into his lungs as Shane looked around and for a moment, felt nothing but _triumph_.

The same triumph he felt whenever he and Rick would arrest a suspect that tried to be clever or tried to run. That rush of adrenaline from emerging as the victor.

He managed to take down _Evelyn Rider._ Someone he actually thought was untouchable before. Someone he _knew_ could've taken his life as easy as whistling, at her prime.

She put up more of a fight than Odis but that was expected. Evelyn Rider was not the type of person to go down easy. It's a miracle he took her down as fast as he did and he has the search for Sophia to thank. So I guess one good thing came outta that disaster.

This changes everything though.

Randall? Ain't nobody gon' care if he's dead but _Eve?_ The most universally respected person of the entire group — Daryl won't be the only one tryna skin him alive if any a them figure out what he just did. Hell even _Carl_ might wanna kill 'im for this.

As soon as they realize she's gone they won't let this go.

Shane looked around and came late to the realization that little prick is long gone.

A snarl tore from his blood covered mouth, the fresh stuff still seeping from his badly broken nose as he stormed over and swiped both guns off the forest floor, small brown leaves and sticks clinging to the cool metal as he did so.

He's gotta come up with something — something to explain all a this. A plan stormed in his mind as he stalked away in a fury. Bits and pieces of an already half formed idea trying to mash themselves together into something that'll fit.

Randall watched, not making a sound until that man was long gone. He wanted to jump out and run as soon as he was out of sight but his wrists are still bound and as soon as he moved his leg he winced and slammed his sweaty filthy palms over his lips the moment the slightest sound of pain slipped from them.

His heart stopped, eyes blowing wide, and his entire body went rigid; frozen in place, every panicked corner of his brain telling him not to move and buzzing with ' _Did he hear'_ because if he did… he's as good as dead.

If _that woman_ couldn't win that fight what chance does Randall have against him? About as much of a chance as the risen dead crawling back into their own graves and going back to being just that; Dead.

Minutes must've ticked by before the shaken injured man deemed it safe enough to slowly crawl from the bushes, still looking around like an animal of prey making sure it's safe before leaving it's burrow.

His eyes flickered like poorly wired lights from thing to thing; between the still body of that lady who tried to help him, to the trees surrounding, to the direction that man stalked off, and finally to what would be his salvation.

Two beautiful crafter shimmering steel blades. One stuck in a log, the other buried in the dirt and slanted over but still upright and stuck in the earth like it'd tried it's damndest to carve up the ground itself.

Crawling seems to have become a thing for Randall as he shimmied his way across the forest floor in something of a half limp army-crawl to the log; the closet object containing his freedom.

He finally reached it and didn't even stop to think before wrapping his hands over it and starting to saw at the duct tape pulling sharply on his raw skin.

The tape soon split and Randall — momentarily forgetting the reason for keeping quiet — cried out in joy.

Seconds later he realized his mistake and quickly whipped his head around. Thankfully it seems nothing has heard but his eyes caught on the body mere feet from him.

He gulped as his throat constricted. He's seen people die before but… this felt different.

He was lucky enough not to have seen his folks go, and he's never had to luxury of hanging around to watch the gruesome deaths of anyone else but… what he witnessed — what he just hid in the bushes and _watched_ happen... is a whole 'nother level of messed up.

He's seen his own group kill people in brutal ways before but, they never went after each other like that — at least, never gotten so far as to _kill_ the other.

Although thinking about it now… there are definitely a few he can think of that would have if they weren't interrupted by one thing or another. And who knows what's happened since he's been gone.

Does he even wanna know?

Randall wrenched the blade from the log, eyes moving back and forth between the body, blade, and the forest.

Being truly out here on your own is already starting to wrack his nerves. The dead body and lurking possibility of that guy comin' back ain't helpin'.

It's still bleeding.

When do bodies stop bleedin'?

Randall used the tree next to him to try to stand up. Pain spiked through his leg, and his mouth dropped open, hissing trying not to make any noise but it's hard when your whole leg feels like it's on fire and just the thought of putting your foot on the ground much less doing it is crippling him.

That old guy patched him up good but it still hurts so bad. He didn't lose his leg thankfully but he shouldn'ta listened when he told him to jump. He knew that rooftop was too high, if his foot hadn't buckled underneath him when he hit the other roof, he wouldn't have rolled and —…

Randall tried to stop panting. He can't think 'bout that right now. He's gotta get outta here.

Even if that guy don't come back, her people are sure to come lookin' for her and there's no way that man won't tell them _he_ killed 'er soon as he gets back there. And they won't believe him over one a their own—

Randall's thoughts flew out the window as he stared at the body. He couldn't see it from the ground but it— is she…?

Randall looked around before carefully edging closer.

There's no way she's turnin' — she wasn't bit but she's… breathing?

Without a thought he went closer to her and leaned over.

She is definitely breathing — she's alive!

Randall almost laughed in pure disbelief. She's alive! She _survived_ that head clobbering!

"'Ey." Randall bent over, using the tree next to him to stabilize himself.

"Hey lady, wake up." He shook her but nothing happened.

Randall looked around again, watching the sky already getting darker and already making it harder to see out here. If he's gonna get out of here he's gotta go — like now. But…

He looked back down at her biting dry, scabbed lips. ' _If I leave 'er here, she'll die for sure._ '

Oh— why should I care? These people tried to kill me! Kept me prisoner!

 _But_ she _didn't_.

She didn't ever try to hurt him — Hell she stopped _them_ from hurtin' him a couple times too.

She did try to help him, she gave him that medicine to help with the pain (which worked wonders for a little while), she saved his life more than once — she stopped that guy from killin' him; almost got 'erself killed doin' it.

He probably owes this one person his life 3-4 times over.

Ain't nobody's ever done that for him. Not the guys he was with, there was no reason to before all a this, and ain't nobody's ever looked out for 'im like that. Except… well, his sister.

Jenny always used to look out for him even though he was such a screw up and kinda… an asshole to 'er sometimes. She was only a year older but she was so much better. Had 'er life put together and everything; Did what she wanted and ain't nobody could stop 'er.

Randall swallowed hard. It's been awhile since he's thought about his older sister.

He never saw 'er body. Some part of him is holding out that she's out there somewhere — that there ain't no way she died, she's too smart for that but… I don't know. You can only hold onto that hope with nothin' to support it for so long.

' _Snap'_

Randall whirled around, " _Ahhhh—!_ "

* * *

Phew~

I'm not gonna lie. This was tough. I had a little trouble with my apartment after a serious amount of driving but I'm here now and settled, and super proud that I was able to upload on schedule. Thank you guys so much for being supportive and understanding through this you all _rock!_ (still not sorry lol)


	95. Chapter 92

Randall threw himself backwards as the roamer nearly tackled him. His entire leg burned and zinged as he barely flailed them out of the way before the dead guy got to sink its teeth into his ankle.

Haphazardly rolling through the leaves, Randall tried to get away from it but it was determined to go after his leg and followed on the forest floor as he tried to crawl away, snapping and growling loudly as if that would somehow make Randall move slower or even go towards it; the exact opposite of what actually happens.

"Ah!" Randall shouted as it got hold of his leg and kicked his foot blindly trying anything to shake it off.

The knife in his hand was almost completely forgotten until it tinged against a bloody rock as his forearm hit the crunchy leaves for the umteenth time.

Randall's face hit the dirt when his foot was suddenly released and he flipped over, harsh pants coming to a stop when he saw the roamer crawling for _her._

" _No!_ " He shot forward, his leg swinging underneath him as he tackled the back of the walker, pushing it's face into the dirt right beside her arm.

He wrestled it's head against the ground before being able to jab the knife into the top of it's skull. It thrashed and a whiny shriek that put horror movies to shame pierced the air, hardly muffled by the dirt as it pushed back, trying to lift its head. He stabbed it again, and again, and again before it finally stopped moving, blood gushing over Randall's hand, the blade, and the woman's leather sleeve, spilling down over her wrist as well.

Randall scrambled off the walker, eyes flying even faster than before. All of a sudden he feels _very_ exposed. His movements jerky while he crawled around the body.

His hands hovered around the woman's bleeding head, not knowing what to do but in movies and stuff they bind it up right? To stop the bleeding, yeah?

He looked around before crawling to the roamer's side. It was difficult to flip the body and get its belt off but he managed even if it hurt his leg a bit and caused some — louder than he'd like — grunts.

Sweat beaded down his temple when he finally got it off and managed to tear some of its shirt before crawling back over to the woman.

"I'm real sorry 'bout this." Randall apologized before lifting her head. He grimaced, trying to be careful. He doesn't know if she can feel it or not — most likely not — but still.

He moved some of the sticky blood-clotted dark strands off her forehead and tried to focus on two different things at once as he wrapped it around her head and kept his eyes on the woods around them.

"Maybe I should go get that ol' man. He patched me up he could—" Randall looked up and a chill ran down his spine.

Wait… which way did they come from?

She came from that way but he walked off in another direction and—and he's sure that dude didn't bring him from the same way.

"Ah no. No, no no." Randall grabbed at his hair, pulling harshly on his scalp as he looked around. "This can't be happening."

* * *

"Rick! Rick!" Shane came out of the trees, shouting.

"What happened!?" Lori shouted as everyone swarming the shed turned.

"He's armed! He's got my gun!"

"Are you okay?" Carl shouted in worry, looking at the blood pouring down Shane's face from his nose.

"I'm fine — little bastard just snuck up on me, clocked me in the face." he stalked towards everyone.

"Alright Hershel, T-Dog!" Rick raised his voice, swinging around. "Get everybody back in the house!"

"Glenn, Daryl, come with us." Rick ordered, the two mentioned immediately following.

"T, I'mma need that gun." Shane stalked towards him pointing and the man handed over his piece without fuss.

"Just let him go," Carol started to panic. "That was the plan, wasn't it, to just let him go?"

"The plan was to cut him loose far away from here, _not on our front step with a gun._ " Rick's aggravated response made the woman back down but he had a point.

"Wait does anybody know where Eve is?" Andrea called at the 4 men who were already tracking towards the woods.

"Oh shit— she's out there checkin' the creek." T-Dog pointed at the woods Shane came from.

"On her own?" Glenn's wide eyes locked with Daryl's.

"Get everybody back in the house! Lock all the doors and stay put!" Rick called back, a new surge of urgency running through 3 of the four. Worried about their silent companion having a more _lethal_ encounter with Randall than Shane's.

"Come on, he wasn't anywhere near the creek when I last saw him." Shane ran ahead, leading them into the woods, in the opposite direction he took care of Evelyn; where Randall actually took off.

If he'd had the sense to shoot her instead of just leaving the body, he could've blamed it on the boy but he didn't.

He can't risk them findin' 'er or the kid now.

With any luck that little asshole's long gone, and the walkers and nature will take care of Eve before long. If not, he'll just have to go find 'er when this is over with and take care of the body himself.

* * *

They've got no choice. They're stuck here.

He racked his brain tryna figure out what to do but the only thing that came to mind that's even remotely possible is to wait.

He can't drag her, he tried. It hurts his leg too much to even carry himself very far, much less dragging her.

Randall isn't a big guy. He ain't gonna lie about that, least of all to himself. Not when he couldn't drag a woman shorter, and probably lighter than him, more than 30 feet.

He only managed to get her to the bushes, out of sight, in case that guy comes back.

It's getting darker fast though. It can't have been more than a half hour since that guy left and already it's gettin' harder to see out here.

He doesn't know how to start a fire or nothin' but that didn't stop him from tryin'.

He's got a pile a twigs and is tryna copy what he remembers seein' on some tv show awhile ago. Something about twirling the stick really fast so it heats up. But let's face it, he has no idea what he's doing and probably looks like a moron tryna light this sad pile a twigs.

What else can he do though? He can't leave 'er and go get help — he's got no idea which way to even go, and that walker — what if there are more out 'ere and by some miracle he does find his way back and convince her people not to kill him even though he's gonna bring them into the deep dark woods supposedly to find their friend who's unconscious.

He saw how that dude beatin' on him the other day treated her. They were tight. You'd have to be more than blind not to see that. Something tells him there's no way he won't notice his girlfriend goin' missin'.

Randall's bettin' he'll come lookin' for her sooner rather than later.

At least he hopes so. He's puttin' all his — and her — chips on it, cause if not… they're both dead.

He ain't the smartest guy around but he ain't stupid enough to think he could make it out 'ere on his own. Especially not now, with this busted up leg.

Somebody's gotta have noticed she's gone by now — him too most likely; What with the way they were all keepin' tabs on him like an internet browser, even though he was cuffed inside that shed and can't walk faster than a roamer.

The bleedin' finally stopped but she don't look so good. She's gettin' colder and he doesn't know if it's cause of the blood she lost or the temperature dropping.

Randall threw the stick in frustration, watching it ricochet off a tree and spin like a helicopter blade until it hit the ground with a bounce. He's cold too and this isn't working. He sat her up against the tree, trying to fold her hands into her jacket but they wouldn't stay for very long.

Finally he just sat beside her. It feels a little weird sitting this close to a stranger he barely knows but she did save his life and all. And there's all that stuff about body heat and whatever.

If those guys don't get here soon… they're gonna freeze to death.

Unless the dead get them first.

* * *

"I saw him head up through the trees that way before I blacked out. I'm not sure how long." Shane pointed, trudging with harsh steps through the grey toned woods. The last rays of day being their only light at the moment. And the temperature's already beginning to drop.

"He couldn't have gotten far." Rick moved up next to him, looking around anxiously. "He's hobbled, exhausted."

"And armed." Glenn's eyes scanned the trees hoping to god to catch a glimpse of Eve, he'd even take her scaring them half to death at this point.

"So are we." Rick stopped, Shane following suit, and turned to look at Glenn.

"Eve'll be fine. She can handle 'erself better than anyone." He tried to reassure the youngest of the four. Any other time Glenn would have smiled at the fact it sounded like he called her evil just then, but not now.

"Can you track him?" Rick whipped around to Daryl, whose eyes are glued to the forest floor.

"Nah, I don't see nothin'" Anxious eyes searched for any sign of the slightest tracks. He's not seeing anything. Not so much as a squirrel.

He doesn't know which route Eve took to the creek but it's a fair bet she steered clear of the sinkhole. She ain't stupid. Especially not after all the shit he's been givin' her for it (he will never let her live that down). That doesn't help them much though, not even to ease some of the pressure in his head slowly building every second he doesn't know where she is.

Rick's right that she can handle herself but she has no idea Randall's out here. If that little punk sees her before she sees him…

"Hey look, there ain't no use in tracking him, okay? He went that way." Shane stalked around the trees, the forest floor littered with fallen crunching leaves.

A plan began to solidify in Shane's head. "We just need to pair up. Spread out, just chase him down. That's it."

"Kid weighs a buck - 25 soakin' wet." Daryl's suspicious eyes turned over his shoulder at the ex-police officer. A dangerous feeling crawling his spine. The same one he had the last time Eve went missing out 'ere and he found her under layers of mud but this time it's far more chilling. "You tryna tell us he got the jump on you?"

"I'd say a rock pretty much evens those odds, wouldn't you?" Shane snapped back.

"Alright, knock it off." Rick scolded. He touched Daryl's shoulder getting the man to look at him and did not miss the almost lethal force behind the blue. "You and Glenn start headin' up the right flank. I have a feeling that's where Eve might'a headed. Me and Shane'll take the left."

"Remember, Randall's not the only threat out there. Keep an eye out for each other. Eve might already be headed back to the house but if any of us happen across 'er, make sure she knows what's goin' on. We could use the extra hands." Rick knows she can handle herself and finding Randall is the priority but it'd be a lie if he said he wasn't concerned about her too.

The four split off in their own directions in teams of two. All 3 missing the slight panic toiling in Shane's eyes as he glanced at the ground, trying to figure out what to do if they find her.

But the darker the sky became, the deeper he and Rick got into the woods, the farther away from the others they got and the more secluded the place began to feel, the clearer his plan became.

Dark eyes set on Rick's back, letting the deputy lead the way into the deep, sound-dampening trees.


	96. Chapter 93

Crickets chirped in the blackened forest, the darkness consuming everything except the tree Randall sat next to, and the woman he's trying to keep alive.

He may not be above begging for his life, but he's not a coward. He decided to do this, he ain't gonna back out now. It's not like he can anyway.

Even if he'd changed his mind about helping her and waiting for her people, he can't leave now.

The temperature hasn't dropped much more since the sun went down and the wind has stopped but while as comforting to his chills as that might be, it makes the forest deathly quiet and is damaging his calm by the minute.

Before the only thing he could hear was rustling leaves and the little sounds nature makes every day. But now, the only thing he can hear is his own blood in his ears, and sometimes her breathing.

* * *

Daryl looked for absolutely any sign something bigger than a squirrel has been through here as he walked through the forest with Glenn.

Moonlight streams through the trees, adding to the grey coating the forest but it doesn't provide much in the way of seeing. Just prevents their eyes from totally adjusting to the harsh dark shadows it's casting from the trees.

Fog rolled in with the fall of the sun, looking more like spooky dust than anything but has limited their field vision even further. Even if it isn't too thick, they can barely see 50 feet in front of 'em.

A frustrated sigh growled past Daryl's throat, and if Glenn wasn't standing right next to him, he easily could've mistaken the sound for a walker.

"This is pointless." He should've grabbed Eve's night vision goggles before they left. "Give me that light." Daryl reached his hand out.

Glenn handed over the flashlight in his grip and Daryl looked around again, confirming that it isn't his eyes, or the dark, there really are no tracks.

Another groan of frustration, ' _To Hell with this_ ' Daryl turned back. They don't have time for this. They've gotta find Eve.

* * *

It got dark faster than Randall thought, and it's freezing. How his breath isn't misting in front of him, he'll never know.

What if they're stuck out here all night?

He thought for sure they wouldn't leave her. But… he can't help but start to wonder if, maybe he was wrong.

He doesn't know why she was out here in the first place, but that other dude looked pretty surprised to see her.

Maybe she went somewhere and wasn't supposed to be back so soon. But that means… if she wasn't supposed to be back this soon, oh no.

 _No one's looking._

Randall stopped breathing. Lips parting with eyes blowing so wide they stung in the chilled air.

Can he survive an entire night out here on his own? No fire, no food, no sleeping bag, blanket, or even a spare jacket, _and_ looking after her — can _she_ make it through the night?

What if the temperature keeps dropping? What if more roamers roll through? He could barely handle one, on his own.

He can't run, he can't drag her, she's still unconscious — what if…

Randall's eyes slowly turned to her, anxiety calmed only the slightest bit by the fact she's still breathing and has steadily been doing so this whole time.

What if she _turns?..._

He'll — he'll _have_ to—

Randall, absorbed by his spiralling thoughts, didn't see the light off his right shoulder moving over the trees. Or the two bodies approaching until a twig snapped and he ducked to hide without even thinking, the knife in his hand, clutched close to his chest in a shaking fist.

Roamers— no roamers don't have flashlights and don't talk (even though he can't actually hear what's being muttered). It's gotta be her people!

Randall almost stood up before his blood ran cold.

But if she isn't supposed to be back, then the only person who knows she's out here is…

His throat closed as he swallowed. He'd thought of it before, he thought that guy might come back, but now that it's actually happening— what does he do?

He can't take that guy on. He's probably got both those guns too — all Randall's got is _her_ knife and he can't throw it like she did. Even if he somehow managed to sneak up close enough to that guy, he can't take him down.

What does he do? What does he do!?

In a desperate blind attempt, he shook her again, trying to wake her up. If she wakes up, maybe she'll know what to do — she could throw this knife or some other ninja shit like she fought him earlier.

"Eve" a quiet voice called out soft but urgent.

' _Wait that, that don't sound like that guy. I coulda sworn his voice was deeper_ '

* * *

"There's two sets a tracks right here."

"Are they Eve's?" Glenn immediately asked.

"Nah," Daryl shook his head. These two definitely belong to two separate people.

They're too big and too deep to be Eve's, Daryl's familiar (possibly a little too familiar) with her tracks. He sees them so often, it'd be difficult not to. Plus her left boot sometimes leaves little cleft marks from the 9 slices on the side.

"Shane must've followed him a lot longer than he said." ' _And in a different direction.'_ Glenn continued following Daryl.

A glisten against a tree caught Daryl's attention and soon the flashlight and the hunter stalked straight up to get a closer look at the red liquid. "There's fresh blood on this tree."

He can't tell if it's human or not but it's certainly at the right height to be someone's head.

' _Or face_ ' that whispering voice drowning in suspicious fury helpfully supplied from his subconscious.

Glenn looked at the blood, but he saw something much different than Daryl. It almost looks like… a piece of skin.

Glenn looked around, the eerie forest raising the hairs on his neck even more so than they have been since the four of them split up.

He can't shake the feeling they're being watched.

"More tracks," Daryl started forward again, eyes trained to the forest floor once again. "Looks like they're walking in tandem."

"Whoa, hold up." Daryl stopped, looking around. It took him a second to realize but these aren't just tracks. "This dust up, somethin' went down here—" Daryl froze.

"What? What is it?" Glenn questioned, a little louder than the murmurs they've been exchanging up to now.

' _It can't be._ ' Daryl stared at the cleft boot marks in the dirt. Scattered, solid, more pressed into the dirt than usual, " _Eve._ "

"What?" Glenn looked at the ground as if he'd be able to tell. "How? — How do you know? Are you sure?" the baseball capped man fired off question after question.

Daryl didn't answer, moving forward, desperate to figure out what the Hell happened. His heart rate sped up, a sweat breaking out on his forehead as he saw more literrings of blood and his flashlight froze on a large rock, _coated_ in blood.

An animal call distracted the pizza boy and accidentally walked straight into Daryl's shoulder.

"Sorry" he spoke out of instinct even before he actually recognized the hunter hadn't even moved. Glenn followed his gaze to where the light was shining and stopped breathing.

" _Eve_ " Glenn whispered out as loud as he dared, unable to keep the worry or urgency out of his voice now as his eyes moved rapidly over the forest.

The flashlight moved to a dark mound just a few feet from the rock and a strange rush of relief flooded over tension that's somehow still mounting even noticing the body to clearly be a large man.

Daryl moved closer without even thinking and knelt down.

Blood and bits of brain matter dangled and spread, tangling through the scraggly hair at the top of the head, and given the evidence it's safe to say it was Eve's knife but… this wasn't her.

"This is gettin' weird." Glenn almost shuddered. He has a bad feeling — a _really_ bad feeling about this whole thing. Has since the second Randall got out and Shane came back with a bloody face, but it just _tripled_.

Even he knows Eve never goes for the top a the head.

The bone's too thick up there, it could chip the blades. She always goes for the softer parts of the skull; the temple, the base, the eye socket, even up through the bottom of the jaw, but never the forehead or the top. Hell she'd put it through the nose before there.

This is sloppy.

Daryl looked around, trying to put the whole scene together in his head, while Glenn desperate but blindly looked for her.

Only Glenn found something Daryl had been too distracted with the walker to notice.

A trail.

One even a city kid like him can recognize. A path of dirt dragging towards the bushes; almost looking as if somebody had raked the leaves away.

"Look," Glenn carefully set his hand on Daryl's shoulder bringing the hunter's attention and more importantly the flashlight to the trail.

Daryl stood, taking fast long strides towards the bushes; probably faster than he should have. But the sight of all this blood, the dead walker that obviously wasn't Eve's doing, the drag marks, and the fact there are two other sets of prints in this ring of mayhem, didn't let him think about anything else. Only the worst case scenarios running through his head because now they know she isn't back at the house like they'd hoped. Her prints only appear _here_. If she'd gone back, they'd have come across hers a long time ago.

He didn't make it to the tree however, a bush rustled to their left and they both froze.


	97. Chapter 94

The flashlight clicked off and in a heartbeat both of them ran with light careful steps behind two trees, away from those drag marks.

Randall set the woman back down against a different tree. Unable to drag her any farther away.

He has to get farther away from that guy — and from where they fought. If that dude finds either of them they're both dead.

He almost screamed the second he moved around the other side of the tree. It's not every day you almost end up with a cleaved machete and a bolt to the head.

"Whoa whoa whoa— I ain't dead!" Randall barely got the words out before Daryl slammed him up against a tree.

The hunter's blood boiled. A vice-like grip wrapping around Randall's throat accompanying a dark almost in-human growl.

"You got about 3 seconds to tell me where she is before I rip yer eyes out and show ya what yer own throat looks like."

"Right there! _Jesus—_ She's right there! _Right there!_ " Randall frantically pointed to the bush, coughing out his words with the increasing pressure on his throat.

Glenn all but ran around around the tree and immediately dropped to his knees. "Eve!"

"She's hurt real bad." Randall coughed, trying to tap out on the scary dude's wrist but the exact opposite happened.

"What did you do to her!?" Daryl pressed harder on Randall's throat.

"Eve!" Glenn shook her almost timidly but with a sense of urgency. "Eve, can you hear me?"

"What do I do? I don't know what to do." Glenn wracked his brain for things Eve would do, what Hershel might say or do, even what Rick or Daryl might do — despite one of the two being right next to him dealing with the escapee.

"I was keepin' her safe—!" Randall coughed clawing at Daryl's arm as the tree bark dug further into his back. "I thought you were that guy comin' back for 'er! — For us!"

Daryl's eyes narrowed dangerously. " _What guy?_ "

"I don't know — that dude who was with that other guy first time y'all was gonna let me go. The bald one—"

Randall barely got a chance to answer before Glenn frantically stage-whispered, "Daryl, she doesn't look so good. We gotta get her to Hershel."

Daryl leaned closer to Randall. A deep growl rumbling low, "You best be tellin' the truth. _And you better pray she's okay._ "

Daryl let Randall go and the kid coughed, grasping his throat and almost fell down, while the hunter moved to Glenn.

The first thing that caught his sight was the glint on her forehead. The thick red ooze that caused a spark of iron in his mouth, traced back to a cloth tied around her head, soaked in red.

Daryl carefully peeled up the edge of it and mirrored Glenn's grimace beside him at the large cut splitting her forehead.

Glenn looked away as he put the makeshift bandage back in place. His eyes caught on the walker on the ground, and at Randall peeking around the tree at them but not daring to move closer but rather than looking at him, Glenn's gaze stopped on the steel clutched in his palm.

Eyebrows furrowing, he looked back and forth between Randall and the body. "Did you— were you the one who took down that walker?"

Randall glanced at it, nodding with a muttered "Yeah" but couldn't find it in himself to be proud or cocky like he normally would.

Not because the redneck dude's looking at him now and making him wanna run away or anything.

Eve groaned all of a sudden and Daryl froze, for a split second one terrifying thought flicked through his mind before he watched her throat bob with a swallow and unfocused amber eyes slowly opened as if they'd been glued shut.

"Oh thank god," Glenn breathed, tense shoulders slumping with the weight of thinking his best friend was... it doesn't matter. She's awake.

Her hand reached for her head and Daryl caught her wrist. "Don't"

It took a moment to get her bearings but she looks even more confused than them.

Turning to glance up at Randall, a sharp breath stopped her in her tracks, eyes coming to sudden focus as her hands went to her side.

"What is it?" Daryl looked down. "Let me see."

He moved her hands, passing Glenn the flashlight and she grit her teeth hissing against the cold air while he lifted her shirt.

Glenn's hand covered his mouth, staring at the bruises that had nearly been healed now coloring over her potentially cracked ribs, once again.

If they weren't actually cracked before, they certainly are now. They look so much worse and her face is pinched so much harder than last time.

" _Who._ "

Daryl's voice dropped almost two octaves, dangerously steady as he carefully rolled her shirt back down. His white knuckled fist shaking around his bow.

Eve looked him dead in the eyes. A serious light that doesn't happen often, shining through the screaming of pain. "Finally made his move."

Daryl went rigid; stiller than a photograph.

Murderous eyes turned back the way they came as if Shane would be able to feel the knife Daryl's going to dig under his ribcage the moment he lays eyes on him.

"Can you stand?" Glenn trying to ignore the homicidal rage rolling off the man beside him.

Daryl obviously knows who she's talking about and he wants to know too but they've got bigger things to worry about right now. Like getting her back to the house asap.

Eve nodded — carefully — and as soon as she started to get up, Daryl finally moved.

He passed his crossbow to Glenn and all but dead-lifted her off the ground, pulling her arm across his shoulders and wrapping the other around her back; being careful of her ribs.

He couldn't grab where you normally would when helping someone like this, so he had to settle for holding farther down, on her hip instead. Seeing as how it's the only part of her torso that hasn't taken a beating in the last two weeks.

Eve leaned so heavily against his side he's practically dragging her, but it's less because she can't hold her own wait and more because when she stood her vision swam. Her own dizziness is giving her vertigo and her skull feels like it's splitting open.

She can't help hunching over. Her ribcage feels like it's gonna cave in but even as they'd barely started moving, Eve stopped the moment she looked at the walker on the ground; Daryl coming to a halt with her.

"What?" The man followed her line of sight.

Eve reached for the light in Ace's hand — who handed it over without question — and slowly looked over the corpse.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she double checked. ' _There's no blood on him. Not even around the mouth.'_

The only blood anywhere on this walker, is the stuff seeping out of the hole in its forehead.

Eve looked at Daryl and it took him a moment to put homicidal thoughts aside and see it too.

"He's got no bites." Daryl looked at Glenn, Eve turning her head slowly towards the other two boys as well, blinking a bit harshly in the dark.

Glenn was confused for a second before he followed her eyes to the body and both of them finally got what she was after. "None that you can see."

"Maybe he got scratched?" Randall offered and tried not to shrink back or look too intimidated when all 3 looked at him.

Glenn nodded and crouched, searching the body while the others kept a lookout, Eve holding the light for him.

The arms, the legs, the stomach, the face, the neck, its back, nothing. Almost two minutes passed and he turned back up at them. "There's nothing here. I can't find anything."

Eve tilted her head in confusion, bad move. Her vision swam and she swallowed hard; trying not to wince at the pull the contracting muscles created in her chest.

"Let me." Daryl turned his attention back from the shadowed trees.

Glenn stood and transferred Eve's weight onto him so Daryl could take a look. An experienced tracker and hunter might see something he's not but he swears, there's nothing there.

And he's right. There's nothing to be found.

Daryl searched and searched for a cause of death but no matter how many times he looks it over, he can't find one.

It's like he just died. Maybe he ate something?

Randall watched Daryl turn the man over for the third time, and a small black case slip out of the dead man's pocket.

Having no filter + being nervous, his mouth fired off the first thing that came to mind. "Diabetic?"

Everyone looked at him. Then the box. Then the corpse, before sharing looks between themselves.

' _Diabetic — could be cause of death, but that doesn't explain how he turned.'_ The gears in Eve's head began to turn. ' _Is there any way to turn without visible marks?_ '

' _Maybe… he wasn't scratched on the outside. Possibly in his mouth somewhere? I don't know, that's a bit of a stretch._ ' Eve grimaced with another onset of pain through her throbbing skull.

' _If he ate somethin' that might a offed him.'_ Daryl chewed the inside of his bottom lip. ' _Food poisoning or somethin' spoiled, Hell maybe son a bitch got desperate enough to try to eat walker._ '

A twig snapped nearby, startling them all out of Sherlock Holmes mode back into the reality of where they are as four sets of eyes shot to scan their surroundings in every direction.

One by one, they returned to each other upon coming up empty. Eve doing her scan a little quicker than usual and immediately squinting upon returning her eyes to where the light in her hand shines.

Eve put her finger to her lips, looking directly at Randall whose mouth is already in shape to say something but cut himself off and clamped his jaw shut the moment he saw her.

Daryl stood, taking his crossbow and double checked to make sure it was loaded before motioning for the group to follow.

Eve pulled her knife, finally noticing Randall has the other in his hand but she can think about why he's got that and she doesn't, later.


	98. Happy Halloween

**💀🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃💀**

 **What are your guy's costumes this year?**

 **My costume's unfortunately last minute but I'm turning my eyes black, putting a couple "stitches" across my skin and throwing on a black pair of horns I've got lying around. Can't go wrong with a good ole fashioned nightmare.**

 **Are you going trick or treating or just buying your weight in candy and watching horror movies like me?**

 **Have you scared anyone? Do you plan to?**

 **Share your spooky stories and here I'll share Eve's spooky experience this Halloween.**

* * *

"How do we get into the ER? It was overrun last we saw."

I looked around for a sec before going to the closet and digging through it for what I'm after.

Taking the two pale teal uniforms off the rack, I tossed one set of scrubs at Daryl.

I pulled the bloody hospital scrubs over my head, catching a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror on the back of the door.

It almost looks like a last minute Halloween costume with the knife, my messy hair, pale dirt-coated skin.

I couldn't resist a serial killer pose over Daryl while he wasn't looking and almost dropped my knife when he turned around.

I avoided his gaze at all costs but I know he's looking at me weirdly.

Seriously he shouldn't be surprised though. He knows what kind of person I am. Maybe he's looking at me _because_ he knows.

"Ready?"

I nodded.

"Er's on the bottom floor." Daryl muttered low as he slipped out behind me into the long hall.

The fluorescent lighting gone. The smell of antiseptic replaced by dust and what you'd expect of a recently closed down slaughter house.

I crept down the hall past the children's ward, hoping to god there aren't any kids in here.

I haven't had to… you know, but if I see a tiny walker, I won't be able to leave them like that.

No matter how many there are, I can't leave a kid in that state. I just can't.

Even if it's a virus or parasite or whatever controlling an empty shell.

My shoes made subtle squeaks on the floor scattered with papers. Some official documents others crayon drawings. All of them smeared with blood or dirt of kind. Except one.

The pristine white caught my eye and I found myself crouching without even thinking. The edge of the crisp paper lifted with my fingers as I raised up the picture of a little blue plane flying through stormy skies.

For a second I thought the happy yellow sun was drawn underneath the other crayon but it's on the back as I turned the page over in my hand.

 _'_ _Answer me this. If you die in a dream, will you really wake up?'_

I blinked at the unfitting happy drawing of a sun with the dark inquisition written in bright yellow crayon.

What savage salt child asked that question?

I'd sure like to meet them. And explain that if you die in a dream, how do you know you're waking up, and not just entering another dream?

Maybe that's what happens when we die. We go from one dream to the next.

That makes me wonder though. If this world is a dream, what in the _Hell_ did I do that warranted ending up here? And what was I thinking when I did it?

Did I sit in Satan's chair? Did I drink the water someone was gonna turn into a nice 1996 Bordeaux?

Did I commit genocide or something? If that's the case, did I at least have a good reason?

Oh no. Don't tell me.

I went to Hell for laughing at something I shouldn't have, didn't I?

 _"_ _Wake up!"_

What the—!?

My shoes screeched like brakes locking up car tires as I slid to a stop in the hallway.

 _"_ _What do I do? I don't know what to do."_ the voice came over the loudspeaker again.

What the— _ow_ my head!

My knees hit the ground as I clutched my head. The urge to scream was overpowering but my mouth wouldn't open. Something familiar in the back of my mind whispering, ' _don't scream'._

"Can you show me the card trick again?"

I know that voice.

My blood ran cold the moment I looked up.

My eyes stung, settling on a small figure at the end of the hallway. A dirty blue t-shirt with a rainbow on the front and torn at the neck over her shoulder. A tattered doll clutched in her hand. Blood covering every inch of her clothing but not a speck on her skin.

"Sophia"

The little girl turned to the side and waved at someone. Not like a greeting, but asking them to come closer.

I watched a little girl in an orange shirt and a little boy in a dark blue one come around the corner.

Morales's kids? What are they doing here? It's not safe.

" _Daryl, she doesn't look so good._ "

Wait but Daryl's right next to—

My head whipped around the hallway but there's no sign of him. Almost like he was never here.

I managed to get to my feet again, my head pounding like a marching band but shiny blonde hair and a light pink shirt covered in blood stopped me in my tracks.

"Amy"

A polite warm smile stretched the young woman's lips.

"Time to head back?"

What?

"It's time to head back, Eve."

I blinked and staggered back as Amy appeared right in front of me, her eyes dark and sunken like she hadn't slept in a thousand years, skin as white and starchy as bleached gauze.

"If you die in a dream, will you wake up?" That voice, it's Amy's but— her mouth didn't move.

"Let's find out."

The floor vanished underneath me.

My eyes shot open surrounded by darkness and bright light at the same time.

A forest?

Moonlight streamed between the spooky trees, casting an eerie light to the darkened grey shades of the forest.

Fog rolled around on the ground and some part of me expects to hear wolves howling but nothing.

The ambient noise of the forest is absent, leaving a tension broiling in my chest.

I'm cold but, I can't feel it.

I know I am, I can't feel my jacket.

I looked down just to make sure and a disembodied wispy screech pierced the forest.

My hands— they're— _bones_

I clawed at my face but my fingertips went straight into my eye sockets, clacking against bone.

That same piercing screech echoed, vibrating my bones, even blurring my vision with the shake.

" _You better pray she's okay._ "

" _Daryl!_ " that's not my voice.

They're my words but that inhuman pitch — _it's not mine!_

I felt something slide down my cheeks but only then did I realize I actually have cheeks.

The bone of my fingers dragged down my face, finding the rest of it intact but when I pulled them away, a thick black substance dripped down the off-white between the cracks.

The moonlight refracted off something at my feet and I moved my hands, setting sight on the shining silver blade at my boots.

' _If you die in a dream,_ '

The bone clinked against the metal as I lifted it from the dead leaves.

'... _do you wake up? Or do you sink further into the dream?_ '

* * *

A groan vibrated my parched throat as the seal on my eyelids peeled apart.

"Oh thank god"


	99. Chapter 95

**Did you guys enjoy the spooky special?** **Didn't expect that to drop Halloween day did you?**

* * *

Making their way back through a mile of dense forest in the dark, lurking with things that shouldn't be moving — much less biting — is not exactly easy.

Daryl's mind however is consumed with only one thing, in this environment where he's actually comfortable; even in the dark.

He's getting Eve to Hershel and getting his hands on _Shane_.

The four of them move quietly, being cautious, but slow. Too slow.

Rick is still out there with Shane. And if he tried to kill _Eve_ of all people... the Sheriff's deputy very well could be next.

Daryl went back to helping Eve, so Glenn could help Randall.

Of course it isn't because standing even 6 feet in front of the swamp-monster felt too far and pressed all the wrong buttons.

It's so they can pick up the pace.

Eve grunted and Daryl shifted his grip to support her a little more.

When they reached the property line, Eve tapped Daryl's shoulder and pulled back a little.

Daryl was reluctant to let her but she needed to walk on her own. At least up to the house.

A gunshot rang out, shattering the silence over the farm and all four of their heads whipped to the side.

"Do you think that's them?" Glenn asked, trying to lean around Randall's head to look as if he'd be able to magically see the source of alarm.

"Let's get back to the house." Daryl let Eve walk on her own, making sure his crossbow was ready in his hands instead but kept close to her. Closer than normal, and made sure she was in front of him.

Eve took her knife back from Randall without a word or fight. He was all too happy to hand it over to the blade wielder and the four hustled up the property back to the house.

As soon as they reached the porch, Daryl took the steps two at a time and got the door while Eve stood at the bottom, looking out into the darkness; hoping to see something with the aid of the full moon's light but nothing moved. Not even the wind through the trees.

Daryl whistled at her from the top of the steps as Glenn & Randall made it to the top of the steps.

Eve turned around and went to take the stairs fast, like she's used to but as soon as she lifted her foot that plan 86'd itself and she took the stairs slower than normal.

It's easier to breathe now but everything aches. Everything.

There's not one part of her body that does not hate her for everything she's worth. Entirely because of all the things she's put it through over the last two weeks.

After this, no more. She has to let herself heal _completely._ But not until after this is over. Until after the threat's been eliminated.

"Rick and Shane ain't back? We heard a shot." Daryl asked the moment they filed into the house. Him then Glenn

"Maybe they found Randall." Lori offered.

"We found 'im. He was with Eve." Daryl answered.

Just as she opened her mouth to question why on Earth Randall and Eve would be together, the aforementioned two came in behind Glenn and Daryl.

Randall is a little less inclined to be here; Given his history and standing with most of these people.

While safe to the other 3, it might as well be a lion's den for him. Which is why he's staying behind Eve, as far back as he can get away with.

"Oh my god— what happened? What is going on? What's he doing here!?" The whole room fired off in rapid succession not giving anyone time to answer.

Andrea took aim at him and Eve stepped in front of the kid, pushing him behind her; her palm extending towards Andrea in a signal to calm down.

Nobody's shooting the kid who saved her life. Not today. Nor ever, if Evelyn frickin' Rider has anything to say about it.

"Whoa ey— ey — ey. T's alright. He's good." Glenn moved in front of him too, next to Eve.

The last thing they need is someone getting shot. Especially if Rick's out there with Shane still and that shot wasn't someone being killed.

"What are you talking about he broke out and tried to—"

"I didn't — I swear" Randall defended himself, almost hiding behind the woman in front of him.

" _Shane lied_." Daryl growled.

"He's telling the truth." Glenn backed them up.

"What? What do you mean he _lied_?" Lori stood up.

"Wouldn't be the first time." Hershel sighed, unfortunately.

"You best let me take a look at that." the vet motioned at Eve.

She didn't think stepping away from Randall at the moment was a good idea, plus his leg needs looking at again. So she motioned for the kid to follow as she moved to the couch.

Daryl at her side, helping her sit down before she even blinked and Hershel moved her hair, taking a look at the gash on her forehead.

"Will someone please explain what is going on?" Carol tried not to pace but was failing miserably. The entire situation making her so anxious she could only sit still if someone paralyzed her.

"You'll need a couple stitches but it looks worse than it is. You may have a concussion so if you feel nauseous, or dizzy, let me know right away."

"She shouldn't go to sleep then, right?" Andrea asked.

"That's a little bit of a misnomer." Hershel glanced over his shoulder at the blonde. "Depending on the severity of the concussion, you need to be watched for new symptoms but since we don't know what or how much damage there is, it is best if you don't sleep. For now at least."

"I am gonna need you to talk for me, to see if your speech is slurred." Hershel motioned at her, waiting patiently.

Eve opened her mouth but they were not expecting the dangerous, perfectly stable words to leave her lips.

"I won't rest until I finish what _he_ started."

Eve's jaw clenched, a dark aura seeping into the air like black smoke, through fiery eyes; glaring through the wall at something that isn't there.

"He?" T-Dog and Carol questioned simultaneously, glancing at each other after the word left their mouths.

Patricia and Maggie were already bringing over the medical supplies and Hershel started stitching her up right away. Half the room cautiously eyeing the dangerous fist clenched white around the handle of a _very_ sharp blade.

Daryl's anger flared again, watching the old man stick a needle through her skin and at most causing a slow blink from the woman, making her jaw clench a little tighter.

"Shane did this." He growled before he could stop himself. Not that he would have.

The room went silent as if a gunshot had gone off, all eyes turning to Daryl.

The atmosphere almost carbon copy of the morning Glenn told 'em the barn was full'a walkers.

"That guy tried to kill us both." Attention turned to Randall the moment he opened his mouth, but most looked to Eve for confirmation and her expression said it all.

This side of her was almost forgotten in all the weeks since they saw it last. Not having seen it since before they left the quarry — even before Rick came back from the dead.

A needle spearing through her forehead, blood seeping from the open wound down into her eyebrow. And a murderous aura darkening her features, plunging the atmosphere into something hard to breathe; teaming with anxious energy and near panicked confusion. All in fear of what Rider will do the moment she decides to do it.

She isn't even listening — which is all kinds of alarming, because _that's what she does._ She listens, and acts, but at this moment there's only one thing going through her mind. One thing in her orbit.

 _Kill him_.

Before he kills someone else.

There was a time she respected Shane. But there was also a time she feared the dark.

And those times are long gone.

Lori walked up to Daryl, "Will you please get back out there and find Rick & Shane and find out what on Earth is going on?"

"You got it." Daryl moved to head out again.

"Thank you." As soon as the words left Lori's lips, Eve's cut the atmosphere like a serrated knife.

"I'm coming with you."

"The Hell you are." Daryl snapped but Eve stood up anyway. "You can barely stand on yer own."

Eve's eyes narrowed at him, glaring her partner down as the tension in the room took drastic leaps towards choking the occupants.

Daryl stepped toward her, right in her face, glaring back at her. "Sit ur ass down, you ain't goin' nowhere."

"Watch me." Eve stood her ground. She is going out there and hunting that son of a bridge cave troll, one way or another.

" _Sit. Down._ " Daryl growled, getting so close his nose almost touched hers.

" _No_ " Eve ground through her teeth.

"I ain't gonna tell ya again, sit ur ass down or I'll make ya!" Daryl pointed at the couch, the veins popping in his neck, not even trying to attempt at keeping his voice down.

" _Then do it._ " Eve daunted. " _Cause that is the only way you are gonna stop me._ "

Glenn swallowed hard, staring at the two, glancing around the rest of the room who were all equally as shell shocked.

Not just at hearing Eve talk this much but actually _arguing_ with the one person she spends 90% of her time with. Who seems to know how she thinks even without words; and vice versa.

Daryl's jaw tightened, anger boiling his veins before he growled, " _Fine._ "

"Eve Daryl's righ— wait what?" Glenn looked at the hunter like he just stole a pirate ship and declared himself captain of the squirrel seas.

"But none a this."

Daryl took her knife right out of her hand and put it back in it's sheath before her mouth even opened to snap, and shoved her gun into her open hand; confusing everyone in the room.

Eve's far too good at close combat not to be tempted, but she _can't._ He won't let her. Not like this.

Guns are loud and risky, she knows that. She won't use it unless she's gotta, which means she's more likely to stay back and let him, rather than risk usin' it.

"Wait— you can't be serious." Andrea moved around the the couch, looking between the two, who didn't even notice the rest of the room is still there.

"You don't get within 20 feet a him. _Understand._ " Daryl held his partner's livid gaze, watching her jaw shift and teeth clenched again.

At least _some_ of the fury is settling to a slow burning flame.

He didn't have to wait, he knows she's accepted the terms, but he continued to stare her down until the woman settled enough to give a visual confirmation; via reluctant nod.

He's gotta be absolutely positive she won't try nothin'.

He knew he was gonna lose this fight from the start. He knows 'er too well. There's no talking her out of this, and if she doesn't go with them, she'll go on 'er own.

At least this way he can keep an eye on 'er. He ain't riskin' losing her out there again.

Pushing a rough sigh through his nose, Daryl finally jerked his head for the two to follow and headed for the door. (The ninja and the pizza boy; only thing missing is reptiles and it'd be perfect for crime fighting)

By the time they're through with Shane, he's gonna wish he'd run head first into a hoard a walkers.

However their plans to find and skin the officer alive, flew out the window like ash, as soon as the few stepped out onto the porch.


	100. Chapter 96

**Eve's POV**

Following Daryl to the porch railing, I almost walked into his back before freezing.

" _Oh my God_..." Andrea breathed on my right.

My mouth dropped open staring at the teams of walkers streaming like tired soldiers out of the far treeline.

We were out there not ten minutes ago, how the Hell did we not even hear a herd that size!?

"Patricia, kill the lights." Hershel stage-whispered at the short blonde woman near the front door and a moment later the lights went out, leaving us in darkness but it's no use, they're still headed this way and even if they're slow, it won't take those walkers long to reach us.

"I'll get the guns," Andrea went back into the house. I nodded as she passed me.

"Maybe they're just passing, like the herd on the highway. Should we just go inside?" Glenn asked from behind me and I turned to glance at him before returning my eyes to the hoards of walkers pouring out of the treeline like ants to fallen food.

"Not unless there's a tunnel downstairs I don't know about. Herd that size will rip the house down." Daryl nodded at the masses.

For now they seem to be wandering aimlessly but unfortunately in the exact direction of the house. The barn is splitting them into two streams from what I can see.

"Carl's gone."

"What?" we all turned to the panicking dark haired woman practically running out of the house.

"He was up stairs I can't find him anywhere." Lori put her hands on her rapid chest.

"Maybe he's hiding." Glenn offered weakly. No if Carl were hiding and heard his mom, he'd come out. Plus why would he be hiding? He doesn't even know about this — as far as we know.

"He's supposed to be upstairs. I'm not leavin' without my boy." Lori refuted, voice rising in pitch as panic began to take hold in her eyes.

"We're not." Carol grabbed her hands, immediately. "We're gonna — we're gonna look again, we're gonna find him."

Oh god. If he's out there...

The others aside from Lori & Carol came back to the porch with the bag of guns and heaved it next to my feet between all of us.

"Maggie," Glenn stared at the girl digging a couple shotguns outta the bag and handed him one.

"You grow up country, you pick up a thing or two." Maggie loaded her weapon.

You are just full of surprises, my dear.

"I got the numbers — it's no use." Daryl dismissed their plan.

"You can go if you want." Hershel loaded his shotgun.

"You gon' take 'em all on?" Daryl asked in disbelief but a strange almost respect-laiden undertone laced his question.

"We have guns, we have cars." Hershel loaded his shotgun.

 _Cars?!_ You think cars are gonna be the advantage we need?

"Kill as many as we can. And we'll use the cars to lead the rest of them off the farm." Andrea lined her pockets with ammo from the bag beside my feet.

Unless you've got a tank, we're gonna get battered six ways to Sunday.

We need machine guns with unlimited ammo!

Or you know, _a helicopter._

Grenades and holes for them to fall into and get stuck would be nice — oh hey, that's actually not a bad idea.

If we live through this, I'll have to remember that.

"You serious?" Daryl asked again, the same tone as before.

Wait wait, are you actually considering this?

I stared at him in disbelief. Trying to figure out what on Earth is going through his head.

He glanced at me but it was brief and answered no more questions than it spawned.

"This is my farm." Hershel cocked his shotgun. "I'll die here."

Uh, _no thanks_. I choose to live.

I'm not dyin' for a few acres of dirt. No matter how much this place has grown on me and started to feel like home.

"As good a night as any." Daryl tapped the wood railing before tossing his legs over and jumping down.

Are you serious!? Wha— Let's save the dying for another day, yeah?

I didn't make it this far to _only_ make it this far, thank you very much.

I grabbed another two guns and some ammo out of the bag, and followed my partner — however reluctantly — swinging over the white wood just as he had.

My knees bent a little more than anticipated and I hunched over for a moment.

Ooof— _Bad idea_. _Bad idea!_

Ah Hell, _why_ did I just do that!?

Especially not now when we're all about to jump head first into a suicidal endeavour.

I took a couple deep pain-managing breaths before straightening back up just before Daryl glanced back at me. Thank goodness.

Cause if he saw that — I don't even wanna think about being benched at a time like this. I don't think we can afford that even if I need to be.

I checked the clips on all three of my pieces, before tossing one to Randall who came down the porch like a smart man.

He caught it more easily than I expected but then again, he was a pretty good shot with that rifle at the bar.

I figured there must've been a reason the kid had it. Let's hope he's as good a shot as I remember. Cause we're gonna need it.

"Eve, Hershel protect the house." Daryl called and I didn't argue. I know I'm in no condition to go out there, sometimes stealth killer has to play stationary. "The rest a you double up and let's move."

Everyone split like a professional team, knowing exactly where to go, with who, and what to do.

Randall and Jimmy took the RV. Maggie and Glenn the green Sudan. T-Dog and Andrea the blue truck. Lori and Carol, plus Beth and Patricia are running around inside the house, so Hershel and I headed to the side, where the spearhead of the walkers is gonna hit any minute now.

I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I really hope your lord is up there Hershel. Cause we're gonna need his help on this if any of us are gonna make it through the night.

* * *

 **Srry it's a little bit short this time but I need to tell you all, I'm not doing so hot these days.**

 **This recent move has been rlly rough and stressful to the point of heartache for me, so for the forseeable future, there will no longer be a minimum word count for chapters. Some of them could be** _ **rlly**_ **short. I might even miss updates on occasion, even if I rlly don't want to.**

 **I need to put my health first for awhile and unfortunately, that could even mean I may have to put a pin in this story for a few months until I'm well enough to continue.**

 **I rlly didn't want to be one of those authors who leaves a story hanging and I intend not to be, but I have to confess... if I do need to take a hiatus, in the unlikely event I am** _ **never**_ **able to return, I will still publish all of my prepared material (everything I've written beyond already published chps); as well as an "ending" detailing everything I planned, the plot, how I intended to finish it. Possibly even Eve's bio and all my notes.**

 **If a hiatus is taken, it shouldn't last for more than a few months. 8 tops before I either return, or publish the ending.**

 **This will not take effect immediately. You can still expect chapters from here forward, every Monday as usual, until/unless there's an A/n note officially giving notice of the break.**

 **I'm really sorry, and I hope you can forgive me. I didn't want this, but it's what I need to do. I hope you understand.**


	101. Chapter 97

**This chapter has little to no editing so I apologize in advance if the quality is lower than usual.**

* * *

Round after round, gunshot after gunshot, walker after walker; bodies falling like weeds to a whacker.

I don't think I've ever fired a gun so often in my life, much less in a row like this.

We're barely keeping them away from the house even with the two of us firing almost nonstop and I even had to drift away a little bit to catch the ones coming up farther down the driveway.

The cars are zigzagging all over the place out there in the fields but it's so hard to tell who is who, or which car is which.

I can't see Daryl.

However it was clear as day when a glow started up and I glanced to see the barn suddenly going up in flames.

Fire licking out of every window, walkers streaming into the open front doors, literally walking into the mouth of a forge of flames.

"CARL!" Lori screamed from the porch, startling me.

I looked away for half a second and narrowly dodged a walker stumbling towards me.

I backpedaled, firing at the walkers around me, but streams of them continued to drive a wedge between me, Hershel, and the house.

Being pushed back, I spun on my heel, running from the masses headed for me, splitting between me and the house.

I looked around, panting hard, watching Lori and the others run for the blue truck that just pulled up at the house, Andrea I assume, jumping out to help them get to the vehicle.

It's over. This was a losing battle from the start.

I dodged another grab from a walker and ran again, my lone dark form blending into the teams of bodies.

I gotta find Daryl.

Gaze rapidly flicking between my surroundings and searching for my nearest ally but all I see are walkers. Striding everywhere I look, so thick the ones _not_ in my immediate surroundings can't even tell I'm here.

The stench fog rotting corpses is so strong it activated my gag reflex and I almost puked as I ran like a rabbit being closed in on.

I dodged another walker and ran along the grassy path I've almost carved out the last few from runs. Boy am I glad I started doing those again but dear squirrel Jesus I feel like I could buckle any second.

My legs are fine for the most part but my chest muscles are twitching they hurt so bad.

The rapid rise and fall is pure agony but thank sweet Mary & Joseph for adrenaline and it's pain dampening qualities because I assure you, I would not be able to keep this up if it didn't.

I stopped for a moment, doing a quick scan before looking more carefully for the others.

I caught headlights headed for the edge of the farm, and another set disappearing into the trees on the far side.

I can't see anyone else, but looking over the wasteland of dead rolling over the acres of farmland, it doesn't take a genius to see.

It's lost.

It was lost from the start, but stubbornness is in human nature. We'll fight tooth and nail to keep what's ours.

It seems the only thing that can pry it from our death grips, are the cold black fingers of the dead themselves.

I slashed a walker that was getting too close for my liking before a calm panic set it.

I have to get out of here. Find the others and get to safety.

"Rick wait!"

I whipped around just in time to watch the red truck blow past the dirt driveway not 30 feet from me, but I came almost face to face with a hand and dropped out of pure reflex, narrowly avoiding the _big_ walker that was about to grab me.

My feet slid on the damp grass nearly making me do the splits before my boot found traction and I scrambled away, shooting it in what should have been right between the eyes but ended up blowing pureed eyeball out the back of it's skull.

I looked back towards the house catching barely a glimpse of blonde before it disappeared through the trees with a whole hoard splitting it's attention between me and whichever of the three blonde's that were here not 10 minutes ago just went tearing off into the woods.

My mind whooshed with ways of getting to them, catching up, helping them, but it's not possible. Not with all these walkers, and not with my barely being able to run as is.

As much as I want to, I can't.

The walkers pushed me further and further down the driveway until I finally grit my teeth and turned to run. Before I get myself killed trying to help someone who's beyond my grasp.

I hope to whatever god will listen that whoever it was, will be ok. We've lost too much to these woods already.

Every step dragged me down, pulled on my heart trying to make me go back for them but it does no good If I get myself killed. I'm in more trouble than they are.

I emptied my clip into the walkers between me and the driveway where the final taillights were disappearing down the road.

If that is Rick, there's only one place he'll go if he heads that way. The highway.

I stowed the empty gun in my waistband and pulled a knife into my now free hand not even trying to slash at walkers as I ran as fast as I can handle.

It didn't take long to make it to the road but I'm not the first one here.

A gunshot went off almost the moment my boot touched the asphalt and screaming ripped through the air. Screaming I've heard before.

I ran towards the 20 something year old, desperately trying to fight off a walker while 3 others were closing in on him but as my heart thudded in my ears, every beat seemed to boost the volume of the voice in my head, screaming ' _I'm not gonna make it in time_ '


	102. Chapter 98

**3rd Person POV**

Randall screamed, ears ringing as blood splattered across his torso, and the force pushing him backwards suddenly dropping like a sack of rice onto the asphalt.

He stared at the body for half a second before his eyes traced up to the barrel of a sleek black gun from a being he's now thoroughly convinced is his guardian angel, who looks like she traversed the 9 circles of Hell and clawed her way through purgatory, just to get here at exactly the right moment.

Covered in dirt, sweat, breathing hard, holding her side, a hazy field of the dead headed this way far off behind her, and he only watched as she shot the other 4 walkers intent on making him their dinner, like she'd only snapped her fingers.

While Randall thanked the lord for putting this woman here on earth, Eve ground her teeth into dust just glancing over her shoulder to the flood behind them.

She motioned at Randall to get up and he jumped in a heartbeat, almost tripping over the bodies mangled limbs until he was right next to her and already the two moved towards the forest.

Where they're headed, he has no idea but as long as it ain't here and he's teamed up with her, he don't care.

As the two disappeared into the forest, the sound of a motorcycle was lost on them over the hoards of dead and crunching of leaves beneath their feet.

Eve continued to hold her side end keep an eye out but they're flying blind here. They don't have anything to tell them which direction to go.

If only they had a compass or some— Eve stopped mid-step.

"What? Something wrong?" Randall panicked, looking around quickly.

' _Son of a krabby patty._ ' Eve dug through her pockets, slower than she normally would have.

For some odd reason the voice inside telling her not to strain herself sounds an awful lot like Daryl but somehow she's not really surprised. And more inclined to listen, oddly enough.

"What are you doin'?" Randall questioned and Eve shushed him. They're not alone out here and with all these walkers nearby, they can't afford to attract attention.

Eve finally fished the compass from her pocket. She knew this thing would come in handy. Good idea to keep it in her pocket and not toss it into her backpack.

"Oh damn, that's real smart. Which way?" Randall shifted in anticipation.

Eve gestured with the hand that held the compass.

After another few minutes of walking Randall spoke up again. "So uh, where are we goin' exactly?"

"Highway." Eve sighed, taking the opportunity to breath a little deeper.

Randall nodded before looking at her. Eyes wide, and mouth on the floor.

"You know I think that's the first word you ever said to me."

' _Please don't make me regret my decision to save you._ ' Eve looked at 20 something year old and put her finger to her lips.

He's probably only a little younger than Glenn, if not the same age but he is so much… less wise.

Randall took the hint thankfully, and shut his grubhole. But it's too late.

They heard the shambling and moans before they saw them. Two walkers ahead are shambling this way.

Eve quickly tugged Randall and veered to the side.

More moans down the hill caught her ear and she looked at the state of both her and the kid. They aren't gonna make it very far like this. They need to increase their odds.

Eve glanced at those two unaware walkers and sighed. This isn't gonna be pleasant.

Eve lifted her arm from Randall's shoulders and made sure all her weapons are locked down tight before taking out her knives.

"Wait here." Eve whispered lowly to Randall.

"What are you gonna do?"

Eve threw him a look and he clamped his mouth shut.

Eve took a deep breath and did her best to sneak around behind the closest one, avoiding sticks and rocks where she could.

 **Eve's POV**

I'm not used to moving so slowly. It must've heard or smelled me coming but just as it began to turn, I stabbed it through the temple.

Something I'm accustomed to doing with ease, which is why the ripping feeling in my side caught me off guard.

My head swam and I could feel myself falling forward and almost went down with it but my front foot caught me in time and I steadied but as soon as I tried to go forward again I gasped.

My entire side locked up.

A sharp burning tingle ricocheted up my torso, like an electric current is shooting through my bones and frying every single nerve along the way.

"Look out!"

I turned my head half a second before Randall shoved a branch in front of the walkers mouth.

I tossed him my knife and he nearly dropped it but after fumbling he got it through back of the head.

My eyebrows raised and I gave the kid a thumbs up; impressed. But my side is _burning_ me alive.

"Whoa hey hey you don't look so good."

I waved him off. We got work to do.

Crouching is harder than it should be but I managed and started pulling the walkers jacket off.

I pointed at the other one, "Copy me."

"Wh—"

"No questions."

"...Ok."

Randall did as told and copied me in making walker-gut jackets. Only the most stylish of fashion for the likes of us crippled folk, and with that leg of his and these ribs of mine, there'll be no catwalk training necessary.

After we both put on our stylish new coats I took a look at us.

We look like some fine fresh turns over here. Time to strut our stuff all the way to the highway.

"Highway's that way. We should make it before noon."

"Look, I know you don't seem to talk much and ya really don't like it when I talk," maybe you should think about why that is. "but why the highway?"

I sighed for what must be the 8th time now. "There's a carjam where we lost Soph—… one of ours. Before we met the Greene's. That's where Rick'll go. Where he goes, the others go. That includes me and you."

Before he could open his mouth again I started moving. "Don't talk. This is how we survive. Quick and quiet. Savvy?"

Randall nodded and I gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulders before motioning for him to follow.

If only we'd stopped talking sooner.

Then maybe they wouldn't have heard us.


	103. Chapter 99

I limped through the forest, subtly glancing over my shoulder as more and more walkers began to pile behind us; following.

A couple wouldn't have been so bad. A couple _dozen_ almost can't be worse.

They haven't noticed us yet. They're just following along, but some of them are faster with longer strides and they're starting to drive a wedge between me and the kid.

They're pouring in from the front as well.

I have no idea how that will affect our ability to move away from them but that's not our biggest issue now.

If the others are at the highway, we can't lead a herd this size straight to them.

I need to turn it away while they're still somewhat following our lead.

I subtly nudged the Randall and he jumped but not too noticeably thank goodness.

In the lowest voice possible with the least amount of mouth movement, I muttered, "Stay close."

He subtly nodded and I started in a slightly different direction.

Some of the walkers began to alter course but not enough.

I need to attract them somehow without drawing attention to us.

I can't use my gun, obviously; that's out of the question. I can't cut my finger with all this walker blood on me — can't risk it getting into the open wound. I've already got a head injury.

I can't run so it can't be anything involving movement, but it can't be too subtle. I need to turn a herd this size carefu— my fingers brushed against each other as I stepped down, snapping a twig with my boots.

Ohhh snickerdoodles, I hope this works.

I carefully brought my eyes up to subtly look around as I pressed the pads of my fingers together before a resounding snap echoed just loud enough a number of walkers turned my direction.

I pretended to turn as well, and started shuffling again, completely missing Randall's wildly panicked look at my plan.

Instead of turning around to see if they were following, I used my ears and subtle glances at my sides, walking at an even slower pace but it's still not enough.

Most of them are not interested enough to follow yet.

I glanced at Randall subtly, feeling the sweat collecting on my neck and the knot beginning to form in my gut as another riskier move came to mind.

If this doesn't work, it could get us both killed.

After everything he's been through, he doesn't deserve that.

I shuffled closer to him, almost bumping shoulders and as quiet as I can possibly manage while still having him hear me, "Don't speak."

"The highway isn't far from here. About a half mile in that direction." I subtly pointed, using my eyes mostly to indicate the direction.

"Head that way, keep the sun over your left shoulder."

His confusion is evident but I chose to ignore it.

"Why are you—"

" _No questions._ " I gripped his elbow, starting to steer him that direction.

"Look for a car jam and a yellow vehicle with a white spray painted message on the windshield. It's possible there's even some supplies on the hood still. Go." I let go of him but not before pushing something into his hand.

"What about you?" he muttered lowly, flinching as a big walker walked past us and barely glancing at what I'd given him. I waited until it completely passed us to answer.

"If I'm not there within an hour. Leave."

"Wha—"

I split off from him before he can ask another question like I told him not to.

I started back towards the front-center of the herd, subtly glancing to make sure he's doing as told.

I'm concerned about leaving him by himself but he's smarter than he looks; provided he can keep his mouth shut.

He'll be alright.

I forced my mind back to the task at hand and swallowed the extra moisture in my mouth, taking small deep breaths to get my blood pumping, just in case this goes _very_ wrong.

* * *

 **3rd Person POV**

Randall watched her disappear into the dark masses, his anxiety skyrocketing the second she was moving away from him. Like a kid being left by their parent in a grocery store.

But as soon as a whistle pierced the air, all of the walkers in a 100 foot radius turned like bloodhounds, and began to shamble at a slightly faster pace in that direction.

He couldn't move.

She told him to go but he couldn't move more than half a step at a time in the direction she told him, without looking back and squinting through the dark-light of the early morning hours; to try and catch the slightest glimpse of possibly the only person he's got left in the world.

Right up until the moment he saw it.

A familiar glint of steel, from a familiar figure leading the dead's march up the far hill; diagonally away from the highway.

Randall couldn't tear his eyes away until she was at the top and glanced back over her shoulder. Not at him, but making sure the dead were in fact following her.

Before she disappeared over the other side.

Randall must've stood there for a solid minute, part of him hoping she'd come back and isn't actually leaving him on his own, before he finally followed directions.

Randall looked down at the blade she'd shoved into his hand. ' _Keep the sun over your left shoulder._ '

So that's exactly what he did.

One hour. If she doesn't come find him in one hour…

She will.

He doesn't know 'er very well but she don't seem like the type a person to say somethin' and not do it.

His gut twisted so hard he thought he was gonna puke, but his feet carried him in the direction his eyes fixed on. Glancing up at the sun every few seconds to make sure it stays exactly where she told him to keep it.

Every step, every minute that passed and every walker he saw that ignored him, made him so nauseous he's no longer stumbling because of his leg.

Right up until he reached a slight hill with a guard rail at the top.

Excitement struck through his spine like lightning as he raced up the hill (almost face planting into the dirt twice).

As soon as he reached the top, he broke into the biggest grin of his life. Hope spiralled out of control in his chest as he climbed over the railing.

He stumbled into the middle of the road and frantically swung in both directions, looking for any sign of a carjam and relief flooded his stomach.

Maybe a mile farther up, is the back ends of more than a few cars.

Randall was almost running — at least what passes for a run with this leg — towards the cars. Not a thought given to what could await him there. Only that she told him to go, and that's where he's going. _Without question._

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

I leaned to the side as I drove my bike around a dirt corner. The early morning fog barely being pierced by my headlight.

Every time Carol shifts behind me there's a half a second when I think it's Eve but my gut twisting is a reminder I could do without that it ain't her.

She made it out. She's probably with the others who were up by the house.

I looked at every walker with dark hair that we passed and every single time, my grip tightened and released. Relieved it ain't her, and put even more on edge cause it ain't.

The loud hum of the engine helps a little, hopin' maybe if she's nearby she might be able to hear it.

If she got out, she'll be with the others. They'd have to follow the road from the house — the driveway.

That heads back towards the highway. Which is exactly where we're headed now but we gotta take the back roads to avoid the herd.

I couldn't see if anybody else got out but if anyone did, they'll—

Two little red glows through the fog up ahead caught my attention.

"Do you see that?" I flinched at Carol's voice behind me, glancing at 'er. I wasn't expectin' that.

I ain't used to the person behind me speakin'.

The closer we got to the taillights drifting on the road, the back of a green car began to come into view.

That's Glenn & Maggie's car.

I revved the engine as we got closer and the brake lights came on.

I rolled up next to them as the driver side window rolled down and sure enough. It's Glenn & Maggie.

"Thank god." Glenn muttered under his breath. "It's good to see you two."

"You two." Carol sighed in relief behind me.

"Did you guys see anyone else get out?" Maggie asked immediately. Her eyes are red, looks like she's been cryin'.

I shook my head. "Did either a you see Eve?"

"No" Glenn looked down, shaking his head. I forgot he's Eve's best friend.

"What do we do?" Carol asked, her hands shaking where they grip the sides of my jacket.

"Head back to the highway." Glenn answered almost immediately.

I nodded. "That's where Rick'll go, Eve knows that."

"The others too." Glenn added, taking Maggie's hand and squeezing it.

"Then that's where we go." I looked ahead and around, to make sure we ain't about to get grabbed or nothin'. "You know where to go?"

"Yeah." Glenn nodded.

"This road'll take us straight to the highway." Maggie added, nodding straight ahead.

I nodded, glancing ahead. "I can't see shit in this, you go first. Bump any walkers ya see off the road."

Glenn nodded before carefully pulling out in front and I followed behind; keeping a good follow distance in case they hit somethin'.

Eve's smart. She knows what to do. She and Glenn think a lot alike. She's gotta know the rest of us will go back to the same place.

As long as she got out with Lori and them, she's fine.

She's fine. She's gotta be.


	104. Chapter 100

**3rd Person POV**

The sun seemed to rise higher and higher by the second, the light becoming brighter as Randall limped between cars. It's been what ten minutes since they separated, and already it's so much brighter out here.

He didn't know there were this many cars on the highway farther down from where his people had camped out but if that herd tore through from here… there's a good chance they're either gone, or didn't make it out.

As soon as Randall stumbled to the center of the carjam, he could have collapsed in relief.

There near the center of a somewhat cleared space was the car Eve mentioned, and right in front of it, the little kid with the sheriff hat, Hershel, and the guy who was gonna let him go before.

Thankfully it was the kid who spotted Randall first.

And right after Rick and Hershel turned, a rumbling sound drew all of their attention to the other side of the road. Where the green car and a motorcycle came and parked next to them all.

Daryl looked around, clasping hands with Rick, glad to see him alive, but his eyes searched for someone he didn't see. Skipping straight over the gut covered kid and looking straight towards the blue truck which was coming to a stop just on the other side of Maggie & Glenn's car.

"Oh thank god!" Lori came running around the side, straight for Carl and her husband.

Daryl's gut dropped, searching the people who are here once again. "Where's Eve?"

"She was with me." Randall raised his hand. "About ten minutes ago."

"Where the Hell is she then? Why ain't she here?" Rick clasped Daryl's shoulder as his voice rose with his temper.

"We were walkin' in a herd — she told me to go then she just left, leadin' them away." Randall spit out fast, pointing.

"Why would she do that?" Maggie questioned.

"Cause it's who she is." Rick answered without a second thought. "Knowin' her, she wouldn't wanna chance leadin' a herd straight to us."

"She told me to wait an hour." Randall added, hoping it would somehow help.

"I'm goin' to find 'er." Daryl went back to his bike.

"No." Rick stopped him and for half a second he thought Daryl was actually going to sock him in the face but he put his hand up. "If she's still leadin' that herd, we'll never find 'er in the middle of all that."

"Assuming she's still alive that is." T-Dog interjected. He didn't want to be the one to say it, they all have faith in that woman's abilities but even she has her limits.

She was pretty messed up the last time they all saw her at the house, too.

"All we can do is wait." Rick looked Daryl in the eyes. "And trust that she'll find her way. She always does."

Daryl turned anxious eyes towards the treeline. The sinkhole flashing through his mind. He knows Eve can handle herself but still. He can't help being restless. Knowing she was so close and now she could be anywhere with god knows how many walkers around her or possibly chasing her.

She can't go on for long in the state she was even before the farm was overrun. Nevermind now after however the Hell she got out — which he is still in the dark about.

"What about Andrea?" Glenn brought up. "Did anyone see her?"

"She saved me, then I lost her." Carol answered.

"I'll go back." Daryl volunteered, partially so he can somewhat look for Eve, and partially because he can't just sit here and wait. He's never been good at that.

"No." Rick shook his head.

"We can't just leave 'er." Daryl argued, getting frustrated.

"She isn't there. She isn't. She's somewhere else or she's dead, there's no way to find 'er." Rick made a point, even if everyone hates to admit it. "We can't stay here. There have been walkers crawling all over this area."

That's when Daryl put his foot down. "I ain't goin' nowhere without Eve."

"Me neither, Rick." Glenn gave him an apologetic but unbudging look.

"I'm not going anywhere without her either, dad."

Rick looked down at Carl.

"And it's possible Andrea could show up during that time too." T-Dog interjected once again.

Rick looked at each of them thoughtfully before finally sighing. He's outnumbered.

"Fine, but we can't be in the open like this. We need to head over there." He pointed. "Somewhere with a little more cover, where we can still see this spot."

It was reluctant but the group agreed to that at least.

* * *

Eve's arms are really getting tired now; pretending to be stuck on a branch while the herd moves on without her, but it's almost to the end now.

So it should finally be safe enough to slip away.

This herd was a lot bigger than she thought, either that or they're just slower than she'd imagined. It took forever for them to pass but she thinks she still has time to get back.

As soon as she started off again though, she really felt the exhaustion.

She could fall asleep right here.

Fainting from fatigue is becoming a dangerously real possibility. She can't afford that right now, for a number of reasons but she has to get to the highway. She doesn't have much time left, if any at all.

She knows Randall at least is alive, and he should've reached the highway a long time ago.

She's got maybe 10-15 minutes to get back before her hour's up, as the crow flies.

She can't afford to stop moving now. You know what they say, just keep swimming. Right?

* * *

 **Wooohoo! the 100th chapter!**

 **Sorry it's short you guys but today was just... I had a _really_ bad day and even just getting this much out took everything I had, so I hope you can forgive me.**


	105. Chapter 101

With blood caked hands, I wrestled the compass from my jacket pocket. Right now, you're my only guide buddy. Don't let me down.

My throat is so dry i'm almost wheezing; coughing and dry heaving every few minutes.

I'm too tired to keep running. I burned myself out leading that wild goose chase. Before it worked in my favor, but now it's just a hindrance.

The sun's already risen and I just barely found the road.

There's always gotta be another problem doesn't there? I'm nowhere near the traffic jam.

I can hardly breathe never mind run anymore but my feet move anyway; out of nothing more than stopping being more work than just running my batteries dry. Even if my shoes are barely picking up off the pavement every 3rd step.

I have no idea how far up I am but I can see what I hope to god is the jam about two miles down from here.

I've been dragging my feet for awhile, despite my best efforts. The smell from this makeshift smell shield is making me sick but I don't have anything in my stomach anyway.

My chest feels like it's touching my spine with every breath I heave into my lungs but I have to get there as soon as possible. I don't have a way of knowing for sure, but I know my time's almost up.

Randall should have long made it by now, with any luck the others should be too, assuming I'm right and they've gone where I've predicted.

God I hope so.

If they're not there, or if the kid didn't make it, I don't know what I'm gonna do.

I don't know where else to look for them.

If we've truly scattered there's no telling if we'll ever see each other again.

I'll have no way of knowing if _anyone_ even made it off the farm, or if they all… and I would have to keep going, telling myself someone besides me has to have made it out. Clinging to all hope against Hell I'll find them someday.

Wondering who could've made it. Never knowing for sure.

I don't know if I could do that again.

It's hard enough not knowing what happened to those two girls from the home and that was before death became the most likely possibility.

I couldn't help scoffing at myself, looking at the littered garbage on the road as I did a scan.

This is one heck of a way to find out that leaving the group would've been a big mistake. Possibly the worst I'd ever make.

Worry would get me before the walkers. Or maybe that's how they'd get me.

Pushing on, I did my best to dodge the walkers lingering in spaces far between each other. But with every step my first thought is 'Am I going to collapse' 'Is this the last one I'll be able to take'.

When I finally made it to the edge of the cars, it truly was my final step.

My knees hit the pavement hard and despite myself, I gasped sharply. My palms smacked against the pavement, reopening some of the nearly invisible cuts from the tree incident weeks ago and grinding small pebbles of asphalt into my flesh.

That's the least of my worries at the moment but I certainly didn't need to add to my growing list.

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath.

There's no point thinking about 'what ifs', that'll only make it worse. I need to focus on now. Right now.

I look up from the pavement and blinked really harshly. My vision swam, the sound of my own blood pumping in my ears drowning the rest of the world.

I tried to push myself up but my hand didn't come off the pavement more than inch before I fell forward and nearly brained myself on the chipped dirty yellow road line.

Fighting your own eyelids has always been one of the hardest fights. It's a losing battle, everyone knows that but we try anyway. Even if we know it's in vain.

The wind blew strands of my hair over my chapping lips but it feels nice. The gentle sweep over my clammy skin is neither cold nor warm.

I swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the dry cottony feeling that occupies your mouth when your throat is so dry it feels like you're breathing aerosolized blood.

I barely turned myself over in an attempt get up and my chest heaved.

The blue sky and little driftings of white clouds are barely visible through my eyelashes and they're the _only_ reason I haven't lost the battle yet.

I can't feel most of my body. I know I'm breathing really hard and everything hurts but… I'm just so tired.

I need a rest. I shouldn't sleep…

It didn't even register that I'd already lost and closed my eyes until a sound had them open again.

I could barely roll my head to the side a second ago but that sound. That familiar sound, had my consciousness clawing its way back up that slick cliff.

I'd know that sound anywhere.

I've ridden on it for too many miles to count.

There's only one person I know who'd drive something that loud through all this.

I'm not gonna die like this.

I ran miles. I fought. I saved the kid, I lead the herd away, I got back to the road. I'm not stopping now. Not this close to the mark.

My fingers dug in, using every last thread of strength I've got left to roll back over and fight tooth & nail just to get onto my hands and knees again.

I can go a little farther.


	106. Chapter 102

My palms pressed against the metal of the car at my side as I tried to use every last muscle that hasn't been injured or used to death yet, to get my feet back underneath me. Though it's impossible not to use any of them when 90% of my entire body is this way.

The ones that are getting pulled burn like a rope that's about to snap. My breaths came in rapid pants through my stinging dry nose but I hauled my torso up over the hood of the car with a final pull and my arms went limp over the grim-smeared silver metal.

' _Come on_ ' I dragged my palms back underneath me into a pushup position.

' _Come on! Get up_ ' I pushed three pumping breaths through my respiratory system and grit my teeth so hard it feels like my tooth's gonna crack before forcing all that remaining energy into my arms.

I pushed off the car and staggered like a walker on legs shaking like a newborn horse.

They ache like all the marrow's dried up and feel as weak as wet pretzels.

I managed two steps before I wobbled and slammed into the side of the car again, my hands slid off the side, barely able to catch a grip on the lowered window to keep myself from falling.

My breath fanned my shaking hands. My mouth dying for water, Hell I might even drink engine grease at this point.

I can't hear anything but my own blood pulsing in my ears, and the wind doesn't help either.

I let go of the car, pushing myself off and stumbled into something of a staggered drunk-jog before heat flushed my body, accompanying waves of intense pain from all areas of my body.

My head swam and I stumbled out from behind the car into a clearer part of the road and I can't tell if the road is uneven or if it's my own ankle but I couldn't even blink before the pavement was fast approaching.

My hands barely came out but they did next to nothing to break my fall as I've finally hit my limit.

My cheek smashed into the gravel and I know it's bruised, scratched, and bleeding now.

I can't go any farther. No matter how much I want to. No matter how much harder I try to fight, I can't anymore.

My lips began to tremble.

I've done everything in my power, just to end up here.

A warm drop slid down my dirt & sweat caked cheek.

Is this really it?

Is this all there ever was for me? Despite every day I got up and expected nothing different, I could still get up and look up at the one thing that won't ever change. That'll always be here, as long as I am. But this is where it ends?

All this way, just to end up on the rough asphalt of a dirty abandon street smelling like the corpse I'm destined to be, and not even able to take one last look at the only thing that's always accompanied me no matter what was happening to me.

All my efforts — against all kinds of odds — and they take me barely to the cusp of another day and not a sliver farther.

Fate has a twisted sense of humor.

I'm tired. I'm so tired of going on like this.

Maybe… maybe this is where I should call it quits.

Heh, maybe this is where I've always been destined to hand in the towel.

It feels like my temple is vibrating, but I honestly can't tell anymore why my vision's blurred, and I'm not even going to try.

I don't know what manner of creature screeches so high pitch and rough but I can take a dread inducing educated guess as the footsteps echo in my cotton-ears like the white noise of words on the other side of sealed glass.

I don't even have the energy left to look.

This isn't how I pictured my end.

I suppose no one is really accurate in that regard. It never actually hits you until it's happening.

I never thought I would die alone. That's a lie. I knew I would. But not this alone.

I always thought that even if I didn't have anyone around, there would at least be _someone_ nearby. Whether I died in a hospital, a car accident, a mugging gone wrong, in my sleep, or of old age. There were too many people in this world to really be alone.

There would always be _someone_ within a few miles at the very least. Unless somehow I wound up in the middle of central Kansas or something; where there's literally nothing but open flat fields and maybe windmills for hundreds of miles (trust me, I know from experience).

After I met the group I thought… I thought maybe even if I did die suddenly and unexpectedly, I actually wouldn't be alone. There'd at least be people who would remember me, maybe even miss me, and I'd probably go out trying to keep them alive because that's what I've done from the moment this all went belly up.

I suppose that's exactly what I've just done.

I can't even summon a bitter laugh at that thought.

I hope they're safe.

I hope they found each other, at least some of them.

I hope none of them are alone.

There's nothing more I can do for them, but god please… let it have been enough. Let them make it through this.

I didn't even open my eyes as grimy hands grabbed at my back and shoulder and dragged me off my stomach, to my back.

My heart leapt into my throat, but not even the adrenaline spike can get my limbs moving. I can't even tell if my muscles tensed but I surprised myself with the one thing that flickered into my mind like someone lighting a candle.

" _Thought you could handle yerself."_

" _I can._ _Doesn't mean I don't need someone there, or that I can't get unlucky."_

' _I'm never gonna see him again…'_

My throat closed up, another tear pouring down my cheek.

' _or Glenn, or Carl, or—_ '

One sound and my eyelids cracked to see the vast blue. But not the blue I expected.

"Eve!"

* * *

 **Omg I am SO sorry guys, I didn't realize last weeks chapter didn't get published on this website. I feel really bad now, like I cheated you on your Christmas present.**

 **I hope you had/are having a great holiday break and happy new year!**

 **Again I am so sorry for not realizing the mistake sooner. I hope this sudo double update makes up for it.**


	107. Chapter 103

**3rd person POV**

Daryl swerved suddenly, just barely missing the walker that stumbled out from behind a car but Rick in the red truck behind him, slammed on the brakes; watching the walker he _recognized_ collapse.

Daryl's bike screeched to a vicious halt that nearly led to his chest hitting the handles.

He glanced back and before he could even take a breathe, his heart stopped.

Daryl swung his leg off the bike, not even putting up the kickstand and forgot about the running machine, even when metal scraped the pavement as it tipped over without him to keep it up.

A mass of dark tangles splayed over the road consumed his attention like paper tissue in a bonfire.

He didn't even realize he was going towards the body until Glenn and Rick got out of the cars just after he passed.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

"Eve!" Glenn called from somewhere behind me, hesitant and probing.

I half expected 'er to just roll over and flash a cheeky smile like a little shit; like it's a goddamn joke but she/it didn't move.

Not so much as a muscle twitch.

My lungs are tryna suffocate me as I edged closer.

Part of me wants to run straight for her no holds bars and just flip 'er over but the more cautious voice in ma head is screamin' _Hell no_.

My heart is battering my ribcage like a one man band as I got close enough to grab an arm off the road (never thought I'd say that).

The smell of rotting human flesh is practically vaping off whatever the Hell this gut-poncho is. All I can say is I'm glad I ain't touchin' that shit with my hands as I nudged the body on the back.

It didn't move.

My but burned and I tossed the arm, finally giving in to ripping off the bandage. Just get it over with.

I grabbed it with my hands, ready to jump back just in case and dragged it onto it's back.

No.

My kneecaps cracked against the asphalt but I barely noticed.

I heard a shout as I reached forward but it sounds like it's underwater.

I pushed piles of dark hair out of her face, clumps of it still clinging to her grimy sweat glimmering skin.

I vaguely noticed my eyes stinging from not blinking, my lungs burning from not breathing, my knees aching, but I can't feel anything except my hand.

The side of her head under my palm, holding her hair out of her face. I searched — hoping for any sign _anything_ on her face, the slightest muscle twitch, but there's nothing.

"Eve!" Glenn gasped over my shoulder, right behind me.

It can't— She's too smart — too fast — too _Eve_ to just—

I looked down at her shoes and the whole world faded to white noise.

9 muddy lines.

I didn't even realize I wasn't breathing until all the air rushed my lungs like a popped balloon at a scratchy raw sound.

" _Boo_ "

My eyes shot over, locking on the thinest slivers of Baltic amber.

A hoarse cough split clicked lips and I lunged forward without even thinking.

"Eve!— _She's alive!_ " Glenn shouted like he had a bull horn but I ignored him.

"Get water!" I snapped at him and he took off like a jack rabbit without a word.

I grabbed her shoulders — carefully — and lifted her up, slipping my hand behind her neck to hold her head and moved my knee behind her back to lean 'er against and wrapped my arm behind her shoulders to keep her up.

Her head lulled against my shoulder, absolutely no strength in her neck. Even her eyes are just barely open.

"Don't _ever_ do nothin' like that again, do you hear me? Ain't nothin' allowed to kill you 'cept me. You got that?" I didn't speak loud enough for anyone else to hear me but the faintest hint of a smile ghosted over her lips.

Glenn came back with a water bottle almost sliding on his knees in front of me and unscrewed the cap, handin' me the bottle like it's a time bomb.

"Ey, don't fall asleep yet." I put the rim to her lips but she just groaned, not even lookin' at it. Her eyes almost rolling back into 'er head.

I looked at Glenn and jerked my head and he already knew to help me hold 'er up. I leaned her back a little and pushed her chin down with my finger, opening her mouth.

I carefully poured a trickle of the clear liquid into 'er mouth and she almost choked swallowing but it's amazing what anything edible does to her attention span, even if she's half dead.

Her eyes opened a little wider and I almost smiled.

I put the bottle to her lips again, pouring some more into her mouth and in less than 10 seconds she topped off the whole bottle.

I handed the empty plastic back to Glenn and wiped some of it off 'er chin, before wrinkling my nose and looking down.

"Help me get this shit off 'er." I shifted her a little, the stench of this gut-coat finally gettin' to me.

T-Dog crouched to help and it was harder than it should've been, but two minutes of struggling later and Glenn tossed it to the wind.

"Is she gon' be ok?"

Eve's eyes turned to the side, trying to turn her head at Randall's voice and I shifted her so she could look.

I forgot she helped the kid to be honest but seeing him here, a noticeable relief flickered through her eyes.

' _She was still worryin' about the kid even like this?_ ' I glanced at him before shifting her head back so her neck isn't turned awkwardly.

"Bring 'er over here, let me look at 'er." Hershel motioned to the cars and I nodded, grabbing her wrist and pulling her arm across her stomach so it won't just hang.

I looped my arm under 'er knees and around her back. "You good?"

She hummed, which is all I'm gonna get cause her eyes are closin' again. She ain't gonna be awake much longer.

It was a little awkward tryna get to my feet from the ground like this but I managed, without jostling 'er too much.

"Mmm..inn" Eve groaned something not even the wind could'a heard.

"What?" my face screwed into confusion. "Muffin?"

She exhaled and if I didn't know any better I'd say it was a huff before a torn ragged voice wheezed "I," almost 3 octaves deeper and a whole lot rougher than normal.

"... _win._ "

* * *

 **Goodbye 2018** _ **Hellllloooooo**_ **2019!~**

 **I hope you're all having a splendid new year wherever you are and however you're celebrating. Be it with junk food & movies, watching the ball drop, seeing who can stay up the longest, partying hard, making new year's resolutions, or knocking out before the fireworks start.**

 **I wish you all the good vibes and best of luck going into a new dawn, especially if you've got mountains to climb or are still working at the one you're on right now.**

 **I for one can't wait to say goodbye to this shitty 2018 but hey, at least it's not as bad as the year the entire internet has agreed to pretend never happened**?

 **I almost didn't get this chapter out today but I love you guys too much to do that to you on New years of all days. I am thoroughly impressed with myself for almost hitting my word count though. Anyways,**

 **Party like you mean it and stay safe** _ **,**_

 **Happy New Years everyone!**


	108. Chapter 104

**Eve's POV**

My body is heavier than plutonium right now but I feel light as feather being back with my group. My partner.

I have to be one of the luckiest people to ever exist. Even though just breathing feels like being in labor right now.

I don't know how long passed, time is kind of going in and out in bubbles of awareness but I know I drank at least half another water bottle that was put to my lips and as soon as Daryl (I assume) laid me down in the car, I was out like sand in the tide.

* * *

A deep breath inflated my aching lungs, pushing on my sore ribs as the glue seeming to hold my eyelids shut, began to crack.

I don't wanna get up. It's cold.

But that's exactly why I'm awake.

The more I wake up, the colder it gets. Or rather, the more aware of it I become.

I tried to pull my jacket around myself tighter but the intense dull aching in every atom of my being, is making my entire body pulse; all the way down to my bones.

The only part of my body that _doesn't_ hurt is the half I know I slept on, and it's tingling like a wasp's nest.

Peeling my eyes open to the world around me, I blinked harshly; trying to rid myself of the haze of sleep but no matter how hard I try, it's holding on tighter than a scared toddler.

However, not even that can keep the realization that I'm alone, at bay.

Panic struck through me as I looked around, not recognizing the interior of the car.

I pressed my hand into the backseat my face is squished against and pushed myself to sit up, wheezing as I grappled with the seat and my own pain receptors to get up.

My hand smacked the door handle, pulling on it to get myself the rest of the way up and I barely remembered to look around before all but kicking it open.

My boot hit the ground and I nearly collapsed, saved only by my hands grabbing the top of the car door out of pure instinct.

"Whoa whoa whoa, ey" an arm wrapped my back and I jumped, almost clobbering Daryl around the head (if my arms were up for cooperating at the moment, he'd have a bloody nose already).

"The Hell do ya think yer doin'? You shouldn't even be awake yet, Sunshine." Daryl scolded me as Glenn came around the car from the circle the group seems to be standing in, _in the middle of the road_.

"Put that grown child back to bed."

I deadpanned at T-Dog.

"Don' give me that look." he pointed at me. "You're lucky you ain't sleepin' with the fishes after what you pulled."

"I don't go for merfolk." I mumbled, and immediately regret it. My throat feels like the sahara and sounds like I've been smoking for 1000 years.

Glenn choked and Randall next to him snorted so hard _I felt it_ from here.

I flinched as Daryl squeezed my side a little too hard. "If you got the energy to make stupid jokes, you should be layin' down."

"I don't wanna lay down." I mumbled like a dejected little kid, voice much softer .

"She gets weird when she's tired." Beth _almost_ smiled but looks like she's too stressed.

Everyone looks stressed.

"It's like when she got drunk and started talking about pancakes." Carl muttered to her, shaking in his dad's big tan jacket.

"Alright alright. We need to focus on the problem at hand." Rick brought everyone back.

I looked at Daryl for explanation and he just brought my arm over his shoulders, helping me walk to the circle.

I feel like I'm about to be sacrificed.

He sat me down on his bike, "Stay. If I see ya so much as bouncing yer leg, yer goin' back in the truck."

What am I, a misbehaving pet?

"No. Yer worse."

Oops, did I say that outloud?

"What do you think?"

I bit my lips. ' _Apparently filter is broken. Check back later when tank is full._ '

Where the Hell are we? I'm so hungry I think my intestines just got a foot shorter. Is there any water?

This looks like a long two way road through some backwater woods. A scenic long distance traveller's road. With nothing but forest for miles. Then again, this is Georgia.

"Glenn and I could make a run, try to scrounge up some gas." Maggie suggested, whispering the last part and glancing around with the shotgun in her arms held tight; Ready to just swing and shoot at a moment's notice.

Jesus, I can _taste_ the tension. What the Hell happened while I was asleep?

I only remember laying on the ground, thinking this was my final stop. Then Daryl, and water, and the loveliest nap of my life.

"No, we stay together." Rick nipped that idea in the bud. "God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car."

"Rick we're stranded now." Glenn reminded, glancing through the woods around us.

"I know it looks bad. We've all been through Hell and worse, but _at least we found each other_." Rick stressed. And I can't agree more.

It doesn't matter where we are, or what happens around us so long as we stick together, we'll be ok.

"I wasn't sure, I—I really wasn't. But _we did_. We're _together_. _We keep it that way._ "

"We'll find shelter somewhere, there's gotta be a place." Rick turned, looking around like you can actually see more than ten feet into the forest.

If there is a place like that around… I don't think it'll be unoccupied. I don't think it's somewhere we can _find_.

"Rick look around. There's walkers everywhere, they're—they're migrating or something." Glenn reasoned, almost pleading.

"There's gotta be a place not— not just where we hole up. But where we fortify." Rick's not just answering now, he's thinking out loud. "Hunker down. Pull ourselves together, build _a life_ for each other." Whoa getting a little aggressive there, Officer.

"I know it it's out there we just have to _find it._ "

We can't count on finding a place like the CDC or Hershel's farm again. Both of those places fell to the walkers within days or weeks of when we found them.

We'll have better luck building the place ourselves—...

Actually. That's not such a bad idea.

Assuming we can find somewhere with a good enough foundation.

Even that'll be tough to find outside of the cities (which crawl with walkers). And we're not the only people out there with an idea like that. G's group is enough proof of that; even if they're not there anymore.

I really hope my predictions about their place were wrong, but I'm not holding my breath.

"Even if we do find such a place." Maggie started. "And we think it's safe, we can never be sure. For how long."

She has a point. Unless we design it very carefully. Specifically so that it _will_ last.

"Look what happened with the farm. We fooled ourselves into thinking that was safe." Maggie persisted.

"We won't make that mistake again." Hershel interjected.

To do that, we need to figure out what went wrong. Why wasn't it safe? Why haven't any of the places we've been to, or seen, withstood the test of time?

The pitfall of all the places out there right now is they're either: not designed to withstand the world today, they're not self-sufficient enough to sustain themselves, or they're poorly constructed; often in a hurry to just have a place defensible enough to sleep at night.

The farm in the countryside, G's place in the city, and the CDC are all great examples of each flaw. Hell, even the quarry camp is a good example to draw from.

The problem with the farm: not built to withstand walkers.

The CDC: not built to sustain itself.

G's place: constructed in a hurry and to be a temporary hideout until they could get out of the city (he said so himself).

The problem with the quarry: no sight lines, no defenses, not even early warning systems.

We were sitting ducks on that hilltop, but that was before we had any idea of what we're dealing with on a day to day basis.

Hell, some were still hoping for rescue or a way out back then.

It feels like so long ago. In reality it's only been a few months since then.

I know Rick wants this place more than anything right now. But… I'm not sure it's even obtainable anymore. Something like that isn't just dropped into your lap. If it were, there'd be much larger factions of the population surviving.

Maybe that'll change down the line someday, but for now, the best we can hope for is a base camp.

Things will never be like they were before. We won't ever be able to let our guard down not just against walkers, but against people who want what we have and nothing to stop them from simply killing us and taking it.

There's gotta be a way. There always is.


	109. Chapter 105

I rubbed my forehead, waves of exhaustion hitting me again like bricks being stacked on my shoulders. Enough someone could probably build a house around me.

Thinking that far ahead isn't a good idea. It gives you unrealistic views and hopes of the future. Which could get us killed. It's good to have a goal like that to work towards but we need to focus on what comes next _right now_.

"That's not important right now." I looked at Rick specifically. "We need to focus on our immediate concerns: Food, water, warmth, shelter. Everything else can— _needs_ to be sidelined for a later discussion." I emphasized for the sake of our pressing concerns that seem to be going to ignored for the sake of yet another pointless group fight.

Rick nodded, the group finally refocusing and taking a much needed but stale breath.

"We'll make camp tonight. Over there." Rick pointed through a sparser section of the trees, at a little space of brown-greyish cobblestone stone walls. "Get on the road at the break of day."

There's no telling what it could've been, before. A house or some kind most likely, but there's stuff like that all over the East Coast. Old and pulling over from another century.

Most of the group stepped forward to get a look at where Rick's pointing.

I breathed out, specifically watching my breath. It's starting to turn white. It could snow any day now.

"Does this feel right to you?" Carol drew my and Daryl's attention, even Glenn paused to glance at her as he walked past behind me.

"Right now we need to rest. That's as good a place to start as any." I answered.

"Damn you get chatty when yer dead on yer feet." Daryl mumbled, picking up his crossbow off the back of the bike and checking it over.

I shrugged, not even bothering with a comeback. My only goal right now, is to go back to sleep — _without worrying_ the group's gonna rip each other a new one the second I'm not looking. So whatever gets me there, hallelujah.

Beyond tonight though, we need to think about where to find gas around here. And where the Hell we even are — I still have no idea which direction we went, what road this is, how long we've been driving, where to even start looking for places to replace all the supplies we lost, what supplies we _did_ manage to save, the list goes on and on.

I wanna bang my head against a rock, or lie down on this street and just knock out for a few hours.

I'm too tired for this. But someone's gotta think about it and clearly no one else is in a state to.

Why's it always me? Why am I always the one focused on swingin' the bat instead of trying to predict where the ducking ball is gonna fly.

Whatever, they can think about what's happened. I'm gonna focus on us not dying at the moment, while they process the events of today.

This is what you get for not paying attention.

I blew my hair out of my face, knowing if I try to reach my hand up right now, I am gonna wanna kill myself for it.

I smacked my lips, feeling the sandpaper muscle in my mouth try to shred the roof of my sore mouth.

Water. That's our next quest.

Gas is a tomorrow problem.

We need to take stock of what supplies we've got left, and what was grabbed from the house before we all split.

Warmth is next. We need to get started on setting a camp for the night before the temperature drops too low and we lose the light. Which is fading _fast_.

I estimate... we got about a half hour. Maybe less.

"I hate to be that guy, but what if more walkers come through?" Randall hesitated to open his mouth but somebody's gotta ask. I nearly jumped, forgetting he's right behind me.

Just to be safe from another surprise, I looked around taking note of where everyone is.

"Or another group like Randalls." Beth went up to Rick, worry and skepticism practically engraved on her face like a stone tapestry.

Randall shifted, subtly moving behind Daryl & I, almost hiding behind us.

I guess he's still uncomfortable with the mention of his old affiliations.

I don't blame the kid. I've shielded him from the group before. Daryl and Glenn have too. It makes sense why he'd feel safest smack bang in the center of the three of us.

But as far as I'm concerned, those past ties are exactly that. In the past.

He's got nowhere else but stay with us now. And he's proved himself, to _me_ at the very least. It would've been all too easy for him to let me die, but he didn't.

"You know Randall didn't try to escape, right?" Glenn suddenly brought up. Bringing Rick's attention to our little cluster over here by the guard rail.

"Shane tried to kill both of them _._ " Glenn motioned at me, and the kid.

That got Rick's attention but judging from the look on his face, it doesn't surprise him.

Speaking of which, I can't help but notice that particular officer isn't here. Neither is Andrea.

Did they not get out?

My throat closed a little; surprising me.

I was gonna kill Shane myself, and Andrea & I didn't see eye to eye most often but,... I feel strangely... disheartened? Sad?

In Andrea's case it's understandable. I didn't like the woman on a personal level, doesn't mean I wanted her dead. But for Shane?

The Shane I knew — the one I counted on and maybe even thought of as a friend, died a long time ago.

I shouldn't be feelin' sad for someone who tried to kill me. I don't.

I just… am bitter that it came to this. Cause there was a time I wouldn't have even thought Shane capable of something like that.

"Speaking of which, you never told us what happened out there." T-Dog looked between us all.

I looked at Randall, and he looked at me like 'should I tell them or should you?'.

I sighed, turning back to face to the group.

"I was comin' back from checking the river and heard voices."

"Of course you went to check it out." Glenn nodded like he doesn't need any further explanation — he probably doesn't actually. He and Daryl both, just judging by their faces, know _exactly_ what I did next.

"He didn't try to bullshit you?" Rick looked a little skeptical.

I deadpanned at him and Daryl scoffed next to me.

"Bullshit Eve? You'd have better luck tryna convince the wind to stop blowin'."

Ooo that was a good one. I nodded in approval, giving him a thumbs up.

"When we found 'em there was a walker from Randall's group on the ground. He'd turned, but he wadn't bit." Daryl shook his head, staring at Rick for answers.

"How's that possible?" Beth pressed for answers.

"Rick, what the Hell happened?" Lori added even more pressure.

Rick looked at me. The weariness in his eyes more prominent than I've ever seen in any except my own; a _looong_ time ago.

His gaze went to my head, exactly where my head is pounding the hardest and most sensitively, glancing down to my ribcage where one of my hands is crossed over, delicately cradling the side that's making it hardest for me to breathe.

"Secrets are like poison, Rick." His eyes moved back up to mine. "The longer you hold onto it, the worse it'll be."

The moment he sighed, looking down at his boots, I know he gave in.

A gruff, tired and guilt-ridden voice came through his lips, and plunged the hair raising quiet of the woods into deafening silence.

"We're all infected."

…

Oh _fu—_

 **Don't forget to review, favorite, and follow for more!**


	110. Chapter 106

You've gotta be grilling my bananas right now.

As if our lives aren't hard enough as is.

"What." Daryl deadpanned, his voice being all the indication needed that he doesn't believe what he just heard.

"At the CDC. Jenner told me." Rick admitted.

"Whatever it is..." Rick shook his head, before all but whispering in a tired gravelly voice, "We all carry it."

Wait so… let me wrap my head around this.

If we all carry it, then it's gotta be a non-lethal pathogen of some sort. It only takes over _after_ death or after direct infection. So that means it's gotta be spread by not just bites or scratches.

"And you never said anything." Carol

"Would it have made a difference?"

Oh my god.

I dipped my head, running a hand through my hair, letting it settle over my mouth.

"That is not your call." I don't think I've ever heard Glenn sound so betrayed.

"Kay, when I found out about he walkers in the barn, I _told_ for the good of everyone." Glenn spoke fast.

Rick looked at him like he's ready to square up. "Well I thought it best if people didn't know."

Glenn stared at him, mouth agape. Like he doesn't recognize the person he's looking at.

I understand why Rick didn't tell us. He's a cop. It's second nature to not share information that could cause panic. Doesn't mean it was the right thing. Or any less shocking.

But everything looks better in the rear-view.

Truthfully if I'd been in his position, I might've done the exact same thing. With one key difference.

I wouldn't have kept it from _everybody_. I'd have shared my suspicion with at least Rick, Daryl, and probably a few others I know can keep a level head (like Dale, or at the time Shane, maybe even Lori), but I wouldn't have told the whole group until I knew for certain.

I know from experience that not talking to people about the important stuff, is a good way to drive a divide between you and them. That used to mean ending up in isolation, now… it could mean our lives.

This affects _everyone's_ safety. That — no matter if he only did it because he thought it was right — is not something I can let pass unchecked.

"I'm not gonna say it was the right decision,"Rick and the others looked at me. "I understand why you did it, but we're not kids Rick. We don't need to be sheltered from the truth. Keeping this to yourself put all of us — _including you_ and your family — at risk. That was something we needed to know sooner rather than later."

"How was I supposed to know what that crazy son of a bitch said had any truth to it?" he almost bore his teeth at me, taking an understandably agitated approach with me.

Daryl stiffened and I grabbed his arm immediately before the signature Dixon attitude can rear its head. The last thing I need right now is to end another fight; at this point I might just let it happen if one breaks out and that won't be good for anyone.

"You don't need to know everything, nobody does or ever did. The whole point of sticking together is to take the pressure on each of our shoulders down to manageable levels."

"I know you didn't know for sure and that's why you were hesitant to say anything, but I need to know you understand that this ignorance could have cost us a lot more than it did. I don't know about you, but I'd rather keep our losses to as few and non-critical as we can manage."

Rick locked his jaw, glancing down. A dead giveaway I recognize by this point, as him giving in to at least giving some serious thought to what's been said.

However, turning his back and walking away without a word, leaving the rest of us to stare after his rigid back? That's new.

This new behavior has me worried.

Lori pat her son's head and gestured at me before following after her husband.

Carl came over by me and I ruffled his hair.

What did Jenner say when he was explaining while he showed us that research footage? It could be viral, bacterial, or fungal?

He was researching but maybe he was looking at it wrong. He didn't have a lot to go off of from what I saw.

Before we had showed up, he assumed it was spread by bite. I'm not sure if he knew about scratches too, but now I'm rethinking.

If we all carry it, and aren't walkers yet, then maybe it spreads differently than we thought.

It's more likely spread not by a bite or a scratch, but by bodily fluids or even through physical contact.

Not one of us hasn't been touched by a walker, or touched someone who was already carrying it.

It would make sense for it to be bacterial because that would explain how we all carry it, but aren't walkers. Our immune systems could be strong enough to fight it off but if we got a larger sudden dose of the pathogen like being bitten by an infected mouth riddled with the bacteria, or scratched by dirty fingernails also teaming in it, or ingested more of the infection — like if some of the blood got in your mouth during a kill and you accidentally swallowed it or something.

There's no way to find out anymore. Not for us at least. But I can't help thinking about it. Human curiosity, the curse and cure for us all.

Carl stepped closer to me, shivering and tugged on his shoulder, pulling him around my knee so I can get my arms around him, rubbing his back.

We should get the fire started sooner rather than later.

I looked at Daryl and he nodded. Eve speak strikes again.

"'Ey, grab some a them branches right there." Daryl pointed, in front of T-Dog at the edge of the road where one of the trees has fallen down.

I went to stand up and Carl shifted to help me. He is like the perfect height for this.

My legs feel like pulled taffy that's been set on fire.

I rubbed Carl's arm instinctively, trying to warm him up a little. Come on, bubba. Let's go get you warmed up.

"Eve, would you mind walking Carl and Beth here down to the campsite?" Hershel asked.

I nodded, and motioned at the young blonde girl to follow.

She moved from her place tucked under her dad's arm and came to my side, giving me a brief shy smile.

The dying grass crunched with my first step onto it, followed by the others and soon we made it almost all the way to the weary crumbling stone enclosure.

I sat the kids down near the middle and looked around with a more scrupulous eye.

It's not much but it's better than nothing.

It's mostly dead leaves and twigs but it's mostly flat, I don't see any hazards like exposed rebar or broken glass or anything so that's a good sign.

However, it's got two openings, on both sides. That's better than a bottleneck of one entrance but it makes me a little nervous considering how easy it'll be to get ambushed.

It's better than an open camp though.

If we dig a little pit for the fire, it'll help hide the light from people, wild animals, and walkers alike.

I walked (however feebly) to the other side, looking out.

There's another darker stone wall about 50 feet from this back entrance. The forest's kinda thin here but now I think I know why. It looks like a damn of some sort. A small one, for like a tiny lake or something. There's a little bit of water leaking off the top and looks like it's created a small gutter-like stream along the base, running off into the deeper forest.

I can't see much else very well from back here. Gosh why does the Georgia forest have to be so thick?

Sight lines aren't great right here, but they're better than the farm, where the trees came right up to 9/10ths of the property lines.

That makes me nervous, but we don't have much of a choice. It's better than hanging in the wind.

Still we shouldn't stay here longer than we have to.

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	111. Chapter 107

I coughed onto the back of my hand as I turned back, watching T-Dog, Glenn, and Daryl come through the other side facing the road with the fire stuff and some of the gear we managed to save.

' _Please tell me that's not all of it._ ' I watched them set down a couple backpacks, including my own, but I distinctively don't see the ammo bag with all of our guns (aside from the ones each of us are carrying).

Daryl met my eyes and apparently Eve speak is a two way street because that face says exactly what I don't wanna hear.

I licked my lips between my teeth, biting the into a tight line as I forced in a deep breath. It gave my lungs a deep, aching stretch. Reminding me how much of a position I'm _not in_ to deal with this right now.

"What's over there?" Beth looked behind me curiously.

I swallowed the dry lump in my throat — at least attempted to — and hoarsely cracked, "Water."

"Here" Glenn took the cap off a bottle and handed it to me.

' _Why'd he give me this?_ ' I took the bottle and drank some of it nonetheless and great googly moogly does that taste good. Water never tasted so great but we don't have a lot of this left — …. I'm dumb. I literally _just_ found more.

So we should probably actually drink what we've got and fill up our supply while we're here.

I felt eyes on me as I lowered it from my lips again and Beth is still looking at me like she's expecting something. Carl too.

I looked at Daryl and even he — oh.

"Water, as in a stream." I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder.

"Oh" Glenn nodded, catching on now.

"That's good right?" Carl took the bottle as I passed it to him. "Means we don't have to go find some?"

I hummed, ruffling his hair with a little less enthusiasm than normal but I could fall asleep on my feet at any moment so give me a break.

"Good. You should go get this crap off ya then." I almost jumped as Daryl swiped his finger down my cheek, looking at it in disgust.

I didn't think there was anything on my skin. I thought I only got it on the gut jacket.

"Yeah, you startin' to smell real ripe there." T-Dog grimaced, and normally where I'd expect to see hints of amusement or a smile, there isn't. Not even from Glenn or the kids.

Jesus help us. If we can't even find the fact I apparently smell like the wrong end of a skunk, we're in serious trouble.

I turned my nose down towards my shoulder and coughed, choking on a gag.

Yeah I'll deal with morale later, they aren't kiddin' about that smell.

"Dig a pit first. It'll be safer." I pointed at the spot on the ground where the fire should be and left it in their hands while I hobble down the slight hill to that stream.

The leaves crunched under my feet even in the darker looking spots where they're a little wet.

That's not so good for moving unnoticed, but at least sneaking up on us will be difficult. So at least we don't have to worry about that.

That puts my mind at ease a little. Now if only everything else would just get in line so I can take a 15 hour nap.

I used a small tree, not even 5 years old I'd guess, to get on my knees and plunge my hand into the water.

I gasped at the immediate assault of icy liquid.

This isn't gonna be fun to put on my face.

My cheeks twisted up, forehead screwing down in a grimace as I drew a deep chilling breathe through my nose.

' _Here goes. Prepare to be cold._ '

I held my breath as I scooped the frigid flowing h2o into my palm and splashed it straight into my face, slamming my eyes shut.

Shivers wracked down my spine as I rapidly gasped but I did it again and again trying to clean it off as fast as possible but I don't even know where this gunk is.

So I just covered my whole face, trying not to get up and run away because of how cold it is, until my entire face is cold and wet. Like a sad puppy on a rainy day.

I really don't wanna take my jacket off, I'm already shivering but it could use a dip too. The longer this sludge sits on it the worse it'll smell and the harder it'll be to scrub off. Not to mention it isn't just mud, it's decaying cells and those could cause problems all on their own.

Even though there's only stray drips (probably splattered from kills) it's still turning my stomach over now that the smell has been pointed out to me. And I can't afford to lose what little is _in_ my tank at the moment, we don't have a lot to replace it.

I sighed, taking a few successive hyping breaths as I tried to shrug it off. Only it's being stubborn and I flailed, trying to find a way to get it off that doesn't hurt.

It's not going well.

Leaves crunched behind me and I turned faster than I probably should have but what's a little more burning ache in my torso. I almost can't tell what's actually hurting at this point. I just hurt. Everywhere.

"Relax. Not even a pack a wolves would try to eat ya, smellin' like that." Daryl came to my side, swinging my backpack off his shoulder and setting it next to me, along with his crossbow.

"Here"

I turned, letting him help me get this stupid thing off and tried not to hiss or flinch when his cold fingers grazed the top of my shoulders as they hooked under the collar, sliding the leather protection off.

I shivered as the plummeting temperature of the air hit my exposed skin and he helped me work my arms out of the stubborn sleeves.

"What have you got so far?"

I quirked a brow, looking at him as he came around to my side, crouching next to me.

"You've had yer thinkin' face on since ya woke up."

Hm, I didn't know I had a thinkin' face.

"That one." He dipped a faded red cloth into the water and I smiled at his face when he touched it.

Yeah, that's a lot colder than it looks. Could I have warned him? Maybe. Would I have? NoPe.

He rung the cloth out before squishing it straight onto my forehead, almost pushing my head back.

 _HOoo COLD—!_

My eyes slammed shut as I reeled. Don't you think I didn't hear you laugh just now, Dixon.

The cloth scrubbed over my forehead before pulling away and dipping back into the water.

I watched the cloth like a needle, pressing my lips into a tight line.

"So ya gonna share or what."

I blew air out of my mouth, only just realizing I was holding my breath, and licked my lips again. I gotta find some chapstick or something.

"Just thinking ahead." I glanced back at the camp where the fire's already going. It's getting darker by the second.

"Yeah, ya always are, aren't ya." I flinched as the cloth hit my cheek.

"No one else is."

"Yeah" Daryl sighed, his breath making my wet skin even colder.

"Ya never answered my question."

I looked at him, startled by how close the cloth was to my eye and the fact he grabbed my jaw to keep me from reeling back again.

As if the cloth wasn't cold enough, his fingers are like icicles.

"What have you got so far." He finally rung the cloth out and _didn't_ throw it at my face again, just sat back on his heels to listen.

I sighed. I don't feel like talking anymore. Can't I just be silent for awhile again?

Talking makes me winded. I know that's a foreign concept to those who talk every day but I've been doing a lot more of it than I'm used to the last few weeks.

It's exhausting, how do you guys do it?

"You ok?"

I hummed, not even bothering to nod this time. That takes too much energy.

"Just, thinking about what comes next."

"Like… when you die?" he looked at me funny.

"Noo" I returned the funny look. "What we're gonna do next."

"Just keep pushin' on. Like we did before."

"But for how long? Till there's no one left?"

Daryl shook his head. "Till we find somethin' better to do."

Hopefully that involves hot running water and cushie comfortable beds again because I can't feel my face, I'm tired, hungry, freezing my eyelashes off, wet, and there's plenty of penthouse suites out there unoccupied right now.

If the cities weren't crawling with walkers, there's no way in _Hell_ I would stay camping out in the woods.

I'd get me a place with a nice view, plenty of resources, deck it out with plenty of ways to get in and out, traps, you name it. And we could all live there together and you know, maybe get some modern tech working again.

Now _that's_ a dream set up.

* * *

 **I'm gettin' my wisdom teeth yanked on Thursday and they legit gave me prescription opioids for the pain, so next week's chapter is probably gonna be short, weird, and not make a whole lot of sense lol but I'll try my best and maybe go back and edit it once I'm off my meds again XD**

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	112. Chapter 108

I hope we find that 'better' sooner rather than later. You can only endure something for so long before you start to wonder if it's even worth it.

Holding onto the believe that it does end, that it won't be like this forever is the only thing that gets you through.

I stared at my cold red hands. The dirt collected under my gross long fingernails; well overdue for a trimming and harboring who knows what sort of bacteria.

My teeth dug into my bottom lip, warming it instantly through folding it into my mouth, away from the cold.

"Ey," Daryl nudged me with his elbow. "you good?"

I stared into baby blue eyes, mapping every little flake and nodded.

"Come on, let's go back." Daryl stood, taking my elbow.

My knees cracked as he helped me to my feet. Even my toes popped.

Daryl picked up his crossbow, brushing off the leaves stuck to the end.

I blew a sigh out of my mouth, letting my cheeks puff up as we walked (trudged) back up to the campsite.

I don't know what we're gonna do. I really don't. I don't have the capacity to think of a plan right now.

I just need some sleep.

We stepped into the flickering glow of the fire through the opening and I went to the side, taking a seat next to Carol, by my backpack.

Daryl knelt next to me, picking up a stick to stoke the fire everyone's sat around.

I don't know when we decided on who's got watch but T-Dog's standing on top of the stone wall with a rifle the size of a sludgehammer, so I guess I'm gonna sleep well tonight.

I sat down carefully, and wiped my hands off on my jeans before getting my backpack open.

The only way I'm gonna be able to sleep tonight is if I get stock of our supplies. I have to know what we're working with or I won't even be able to lay down.

It's eerily quiet around the fire. Everyone's got their guns in their laps, you can taste the tension like a 3 course meal.

I started pulling my gear out one at a time, checking over what I've got left, what I need more of, what's damaged and what isn't.

Thank goodness my night vision goggles are still in decent condition. I haven't had occasion to use them much because wandering around in the dark isn't a good idea.

It's a shame. I really like these things. It'd be cool if I could use them more, but to effectively use night gear like this, we'd need the entire group to be able to see and move at night. Like a military unit.

We'd need goggles, silencers, camouflaging clothes.

Basically, we'd need to raid a military base or unit or something.

It's been months but I still can't see how the military lost against walkers.

You'd think with all the world's military mights and bunkers, weapons, strategies, everything, that they'd be able to contain the threat. Even at the cost of millions — even billions. Entire cities.

I think it's fair to say that for the sake of the entire species, sacrificing even entire continents would be worth it.

It would've lead to a time darker than the dark ages, and more desolate than the world wars, but at least there would have been _something_ left.

Instead, as far as we know, there's just scattered groups of lawless people. Running around like rats in mazes trying to survive the plague that very well might condemn all life on the entire planet.

Cause it's not just people walkers go after. It's everything.

I knew society was all but done for after this, but I think even I've been thinking too small for this ripple effect.

The entire planet.

8 billion people and 99.9% of them, in all likelihood, are or will be walkers in the next ten years. That's a lot of mouths to feed. Mouths with no restraint. Mouths that will eat anything — as far as we know — that can only die through one specific place in the head.

And we made it so easy to get to virtually every corner of the globe.

I wonder how many species have become endangered already. How many are already gone.

What whatever the heck this is, is doing to ecosystems all around the world. How it's mutating, being exposed to so many different things.

And we have no way of knowing.

No way of knowing exactly what fate we've condemned this rock that was once teaming with life, to.

A bitter smile curved my lip as I stared at the fire.

If you'd told a 16 year old me that I'd be one of the last people standing, and get to witness the end of the world… I don't know what I would've done.

Perhaps I'd have become a researcher at the CDC or something, specializing in viruses or something. And I'd have gotten more training. Like military training or something. A doomsday backup plan for the world.

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	113. Chapter 109

Well isn't this a cheery bunch.

I glanced at my friends around the fire. Every one of them looking bitter or exhausted or both, or even worse but at least I don't see anyone who looks like they're shutting down.

Not even Carl, or Beth and Randall.

Despite everything we lost, and how thin the thread is, everyone's still keeping it together. That's much better than the last two times we lost our camp, our supplies, our hope, and had eviscerating casualties.

"We're not safe with him. Keepin' somethin like that from us." Carol whispered harshly at us.

I gave her a look, not really feeling up to saying 'he has his reasons' right now but she should know better than this. What's gotten into her?

"Why do you need him, he's just gonna pull you down." Carol whispered bitterly, looking between us.

"Nah, Rick's done alright by me." Daryl shook his head, dismissing Carol's statement and I nodded in agreement.

He might be a little off kilter at the moment, but Rick's never intentionally tried to hurt us.

"You're his henchmen." She looked between the two of us. "And I'm a burden." That sounds like a you problem. There are things you can do to change that if you really want, but it sounds more like you're just takin' the piss; looking for someone or something to blame.

"You deserve better." Carol looked between us, but mostly at Daryl; taking glances at what he's doing to the fire.

Daryl glanced at me and we shared a look.

"What do you want?" Daryl

"A man of honor" That sounds like a little girl waiting for a knight in shining armor to come save her.

"Rick _has_ honor." Daryl defended him and honestly I can't help but agree.

Rick is many things and I don't know much about his life before this, but dishonorable is the _last_ thing I'd associate with him.

Even at his worst moments all I can see is frustration and/or pain. Trying to use his head and not make a rash decision even if he's working with next to nothing and is so fried he belongs on the McDonald's menu.

"I think we should take our chances." Maggie looked at Glenn.

"Don't be foolish." Hershel interjected beside her, in the tired worn voice you'd expect to hear of an old war veteran. The kind of voice someone only gets from seeing too much, and frankly, I think we all probably have that voice by now.

I know, that when I look around this circle, at the eyes of my friends around me… everyone's — even Carl's — eyes look older than their faces.

Everything we've been through, it's almost funny to know this is exactly what it's like being at war. In a military unit, behind enemy lines. Only ours is constant. Never quite sure if we're safe enough to rest and get thrust into absolutely crazy situations but don't have any choice.

No back up, all on our own out here. Never quite sure which breath will be your last but you do everything in your power to make sure it isn't the one you're taking right now.

"There's no food," Hershel started. Beth, sitting in front of her father, looked at the few backpacks of supplies we _do_ have. "no fuel," Hershel continued, "and no ammo."

Leaves rustled like someone had thrown a stone across the forest floor outside the encasing of our henge and it was like an air raid siren had gone off.

"What was that?" Beth asked, exhausted and afraid, but her voice still more cautious than panicked; almost brave. It makes me oddly proud for some reason.

"Could be anything." Daryl was quick to offer a calm explanation, in a tone like he knows exactly what it is but I know he's just trying to stop them from panicking again. Honestly a pigeon could spook this lot like a flock of birds right now.

"Could be a racoon, could be a possum." He stood up and in half a second, everyone was on their feet, all heads turning in the direction of the sound.

"Or a walker." That's not helping Ace.

I can almost taste the fear. The panic rising. It's actually putting me off right now.

Sweet Ambrosia god, please be something we can eat. I'll take _squirrel_ at this point.

The firepit smoke changed direction and I coughed as it wisped straight into my face.

Daryl looked at me and I waved him off, planting my hands in the dirt so I can turn my side against it.

Every cough sent violent twinges through my ribs and I barely have the strength in my arms to _struggle_ turning away from it.

A hand appeared in front of my face and I took it without even thinking, letting Daryl pull me up and out of the smoke.

"We need to leave. I mean what are we waitin' for?" oh god, Carol sounds — and looks — like she's about to take off.

"Which way?" Glenn asked, gripping the shotgun in his hands tight.

"It came from over there." Maggie stood beside him, her own shotgun in the exact same position; both of them ready to aim and squeeze the second something happens.

"Back from where we came." Beth stood just behind her sister, in front of Hershel who turned around to look out the back of the henge; in the opposite direction everyone else is.

Lori wrapped her arm over Carl's chest from behind him. The two of them being the only ones who haven't stood up now.

"The last thing we need is for everyone to be runnin' off in the dark. We don't have the vehicles. No one's travelling on foot." Hmph, you're starting to sound like quite the general Rick. Using your authority voice to make everyone listen instead of trying to calm them down for a change.

He's standing at the entrance (closest to where the sound came from) almost like a sentry guard, so no one can just go running past him. But one look at his face is more than telling of how done he is with all a this.

Can't say I blame him either. My patience ran out a long time ago and is barely recovering through the awesome power of sarcasm and the pure 'screw it' point I've reached.

I'm done with the headless chicken routine. I've had more than enough of it through our days at the farm and always arguing about what to do about things that are so simple a lemur could figure out what to do faster — and with less hassle — than this group.

It's like being around a bunch of recalcitrant teenagers with selective hearing issues.

"We can't just sit here." Randall spoke up, not panicking but anxious.

' _Oh for_ _ **Christ sake**_ _. '_ I ripped my goggles off the forest floor and pulled them over my head like a baseball cap. ' _Do I have to do_ everything _myself?'_

A menacing sound came off my thighs (at least to my ears) as I pulled my knives with both hands.

I yanked my goggles down over my eyes, the woods lighting up green in the dark and I all but stomped past, snapping, " _Stay here._ " before going out into the dark; most likely vanishing to their eyes the moment my back left the firelight.

My last f*** just picked up by a flying blue box and zipped away into the wonderful wide universe.

I am _done_ being the only person who is thinking about our next step and making sure we survive past tomorrow, instead of acting like a scared whining brat who's toys have been taken away.

God — sometimes I feel like I'm the only adult here. The only person who's not afraid of the dark or their own god damn shadow, but knows better than to run with a knife when I _can't see_.

It's a f***ing _twig._ _Leaves._ It could be the _wind_ , or a branch falling because of a squirrel or a bird.

Walkers are not exactly quiet, they don't exactly hold still or stop after _one_ step that came out of nowhere.

It would've been successive rustling if whatever the crap it is had kept moving. But no. It was one rustle, for like 2 seconds and every cries wolf.

Jesus christ. I huffed a forceful breath through my nose, shaking my head. The agitation broiling my veins actually waking me up so much I feel like I could kill someone.

My iron grip on said knives is no doubt white and I don't even care to keep my step quiet as I trudged through the forest. Wanting to grumble like a grouchy old man.

I ground my teeth in silence. The glower of pure contempt on my face feels permanent and even as my jaw popped, stretching with a yawn, I'm far too alert for any sane persons liking.

I am _tired_ of being the only person using their head. I am _tired_ of being a babysitter and breaking up petty fights.

I am _tired_ of calming the spooked horse.

My boots came to a stop as I looked around, right about where this 'walker' should be and my jaw offset, tongue poking into my molars as I stared down exactly what Daryl suggested it was.

I raised my arm quietly and the knife flung from my grip with the precision of an experienced baseball pitcher.

The sound of it sinking into flesh was barely noticeable, even to me standing less than 15 feet from it.

I turned, looking around, surveying the woods before creeping closer to dinner.

I crouched, reaching for my knife where it protrudes from the side of the large rodent; intending to pull it out and carry it back but I stopped just before touching it.

I don't know if I should touch it with my bare hands. It could be carrying something.

' _We're all infected_ '

My face went slack, wanting to roll my eyes so hard they could grind rocks into powder.

I'm probably carrying something much worse than this furry thing.

I planted my hand into the course fur and pulled my knife out with one swift tug, wiping the blood off on the fur and sheathing the blade before grabbing the back feet with my now free hand.

I braced my other hand on my knee and took a breath, knowing that standing back up is gonna hurt like a monster but I did it anyway, with minimal grunting, though it was slow and my joints cracked like my bones are breaking.

Jesus I need to steady my machete. I'm gonna hurt somebody without meaning to at this rate.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching the smoke-like fog dissipate quickly as it misted in my green field of vision; repeating it three or four times, even closing my eyes at one point until my shoulders and fists loosened.

Sometimes I just need to step away. Breathe.

I looked around for any even _remote_ sign that this thing isn't the only thing out here but like I thought, we're too far into the middle of nowhere and surrounded by natural warning systems for there to be any such thing.

The only thing lurking in the dark out here that we should be worried about, is me.

Even after months of being around everyone, I'm still not very good at being around people for long periods of time. Even Daryl starts to get on my nerves on occasion. But that's usually what tips me off to needing some time to myself.

I took a final cold deep breath, letting it chill me out (literally) before heading back, with the aim to keep a lid on my temper even if my patience runs out. Which could happen with just _one_ remark right now.

Good thing Shane isn't here anymore, or he'd no doubt be the person I break in half.

I went around the back side of the henge so I can finish a near complete check of our surroundings, that and so I can have just a few seconds longer to myself.

My eyes wandered up to T-Dog on the wall as I got close and he nodded at me (me returning the gesture), and squinted at my hand where I've got our monochrome furred meal.

Look at me providing and not panicking, and doing something about our situation while everyone else is losing their go-ram minds. And not losing my marbles while I'm at the end of my rope.

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	114. Chapter 110

As I came back into the light, Rick stared me down with a clenched jaw, and it didn't phase me in the slightest.

"Last thing we need is for everybody to be runnin' off in the dark." Rick avoided looking at me even though he's clenching his teeth.

Mmm, subtle, Officer. That totally wasn't directed at me at all.

Hershel whisper-grunted in the same type of voice Rick used earlier but with more… parental authority. "Don't Panic."

Big yellow letters on a black book floating in space flashed through my mind and I can't help almost smiling.

My abs tightened with the slight charge of an impending chuckle, however it isn't amusing enough to actually bring it out of me.

Though I am glad the pain from the tender bruises doesn't feel so sharp anymore.

That could be a very bad sign, but I can't bring myself to care; Nor do I intend to even attempt to. Wasting what very little energy I have left on something so pointless just seems like madness.

Daryl and Glenn noticed my return almost immediately, along with Randall, and I held out the kill so Daryl — our expert hunter — can make it into something edible.

Hopefully like, right now. I'm famished.

"There see. Nothin' but a possum." Daryl held it up where he could look at it in the light. It's a fairly decent size. It should be enough to fill most of us enough to get some sleep.

We can find more in the morning.

"I'm not —" Maggie took a breath, collecting herself to steady her voice. "I'm not sittin' here, and waitin' for another herd to blow through."

What else do you suppose we do? Fly away? Swing from the trees like Tarzan? Swim?

Oh I know, we'll find bikes or scooters just sitting on the road for us. Rollerblades and skateboards should get us places better than cars. Wagons to carry our shit and all this baggage we seem to keep hauling around wherever we go.

Actually… that's not a _totally horrible_ idea. If we didn't have cars, it'd be better than walking at least.

"We need to move, _now_." Maggie spoke firmly but with a shaky edge to her voice. She's terrified and trying not to show it. That 12 gauge in her arms is probably the only thing keeping 'er from losing it.

" _No one is going anywhere._ " Rick's voice dropped a near threatening two octaves.

Is that a fact?

Nevermind, what I wanna know is, how do you suggest we 'move', Maggie? Hm?

Stumble around in the dark forest holding hands so we can at least be together while we all get lost?

Or perhaps walking along the road in the dead of a pitch-black, night while the temperature continues to drop to intolerable levels?

We've got _one_ person — myself — who can see the endless miles of road we'd be headed down, or you know, anything that comes stumbling out of the trees trying to _eat us_. Be it a walker, wild dogs, or god forbid anything else.

 _Not to mention,_ every last person here is running on fumes or less. Half of us are sporting some shiny injuries that hinder movement — also including myself.

And just for the heck of it, why don't we take into account the fact that most — if not all of us _including yourself,_ are grieving the losses of those we've lost in the last 24 hours + the place that's made us feel safe enough to sleep.

Let's say by some miracle we manage to just take a cozy little _freezing_ night stroll down the road without getting attacked or lost.

How long do you guess our whole 8 bottles of water will last the dozen or so of us on foot?

How many miles do you think we'll have to walk to find gas or other vehicles — working vehicles at that — to replace the ones we walked away from? Do you think we'll find food, water, shelter, places to rest, and warmth along the way?

How long do you think it'll be before our younger + more frail members like Carl, Beth, Randall, and Hershel succumb to the temperature and get sick or worse frostbite? How long before exhaustion takes them? How long would it be after that before they get sick beyond our ability to cope and we have no way to help them? Before they'd need a functioning hospital & modern meds to have any hope of survival?

Do any of us even know where we are? How far the next town is? _Where_ the next 'safe' place is?

What happens if we get pushed off the road? How will we know if we're even headed in the right direction? My dinky little compass? The sun?

What happens when we run straight into something we can't get ourselves out of? What then, huh?

Still feel like running off in the dark?

"Do something." Carol whisper shouted at Rick, like a pushy housewife.

"I am doing something!" Rick snapped back. "I'm keeping this group together. _Alive._ " Rick used his python, pointed at the ground to emphasize his point. He has a habit of using that thing like a 6th finger.

"I've been doing that all along, no matter what. _I didn't ask for this_." He bared his teeth at the rest of us.

"I killed my best friend for you people for Christ sake!"

My eyelids retreated into my head, my jaw muscles deciding to take a sabbatical.

I knew he was dead but… Rick _killed_ him…?

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	115. Chapter 111

...He killed his best friend...

"You saw what he was like. How he pushed me." I watched Rick moving around, still looking at & facing everyone but he can't seem to keep his feet still. "How he compromised us. How he threatened us."

Someone he's known since he was a kid, and he — he had to kill him. Because of me and the kid.

God, Rick… what is that gonna do to him?

My eyes moved over to Randall and he looks as shell shocked as the rest of us.

Carl burst into tears and I looked over just as his cries were lost in the muffling of his dad's jacket and Lori's chest as his mother wrapped her arms around him.

Call me crazy, but this doesn't look like news to Lori. Did she know? Since when?

"He staged the whole Randall thing." Rick looked at Lori and I can't help but notice how she isn't looking at him. "Lead me out to put a bullet in my back." It's almost like he's saying it for the second time. "He gave me no choice!"

"He was my friend, but he came after me."

"My hands are clean." As a whistle, I'm sure.

Lori shushed Carl, who's full on sobbing into her neck now.

The rest of the group is silent. Everyone looking at Rick but not like he's a monster.

It seems I'm not the only one who isn't gonna shed tears over Shane's grave.

We all knew he was dangerous and explosive. It wasn't exactly a secret.

All of us had our problems with Shane, to different extremes.

I watched Rick carefully as he paced back and forth.

"Maybe you people are better off without me."

What?

"Go ahead" Rick motioned at the entrance way behind him. "I say there's a place for us but maybe — maybe that's just another pipe dream."

"Maybe — maybe I'm foolin' myself again." he spit. "Why — why don't — why don't you go and find out yourself." he all but bared his teeth at us in a snarl.

"Send me a postcard." Sure. Is by carrier pigeon ok?

"Go on, there's the door." he prompted like some asshole gettin' in your face saying, 'hit me'.

"You can do better? Let's see how far you get." he motioned again with his python.

'Why do I feel like I'm in some old western showdown?'

He knows no one's going anywhere. They're too scared. And everyone not too scared, is too smart, too tired, or too noble to go a'wol. Even though I'm positive Daryl & I aren't the only ones who've considered taking off in recent weeks.

What exactly are you trying to accomplish here, Grimes?

"No takers? Fine. But get one thing straight," his voice turned serious, face relaxing down into the set of his jaw, staring the group down like someone he's about to take a swing at them.

"You're stayin', this isn't a democracy anymore." Rick shook his head.

No one said a word.

And Rick walked away, out into the dark. Where to? Who knows.

I don't like the idea of someone else dictating what I do but I'm too exhausted to argue right now.

That's a later me's problem. Or maybe it isn't a problem at all.

You know… I've been thinking it for awhile — in not so few words as Rick put it, but maybe this is exactly what we need.

Some clear cut lines about who's calling the shots. No more arguing for days on end about the simplest little things.

Maybe It would be a good idea to just wait and see. Especially since tension is at an all time high right this moment.

If another argument started I think… I have a bad feeling someone would wind up with a gunshot, or a knife to a very painful but non-vital (and more importantly healable) part of their body.

I'm so tired of the headless chicken thing.

Rick's losing his mind, Hershel's reasoning is failing, Hell even Daryl & Glenn look at their wits end with all this bullshit. I certainly am.

And I'm about two sentences from telling everyone to either lay down and go to sleep, or I'll do it for them.

Normally I wouldn't be thrilled by an approach like this, but right now, I am in-love with the idea of something more militant-unit.

There's a reason units operate — operated, the way they did. There's a reason there was a chain of command that was largely respected; aside from the odd stray soldier here and there or a few moments where things are seen differently, etc.

I don't know how it'll hold up in the long run or how everyone will adjust to it, but we can't afford all this 'I think this, I think that' anymore.

We need a solid structure and one voice to listen to for awhile.

* * *

 **Daryl's POV**

Well that was dramatic.

I glanced at Eve, not expectin' a happy look — I'm surprised she hasn't gone after 'im already — but as I looked, I stopped.

She ain't even lookin'.

Her face is blank. Half-lidded eyes almost glowing starin' at the fire. Pale; dark circles around her eyes that are so deep I can almost see 'er eye socket.

God she looks tired.

A couple hours sleep was not enough for 'er. She needs to rest.

She's got a bad habit of pushin' 'erself too far.

She ain't even breathing ok. It's shallow. Barely moving. Her hands resting on her lap but it's curled and facing upwards like she wants to put it around her stomach.

Her shoulders are slumped like she could just sag forward any minute.

I sat next to her without even thinking, nudging her shoulder with mine. She didn't look, just leaned against me.

I watched her for a second, the light shifting over her cheeks. Dirt and sweat clinging around the edges. Still, I've seen 'er look worse.

My stomach tightened thinking back to the moment it fell outta my ass when she dropped outta that tree like a damn cannonball. When I pulled her outta that hole. The countless close calls she's had with walkers.

Jesus, only reason she's still alive is thanks to those reflexes. And she's fast.

But right now. I wish she'd just slow up and lay down. Go to sleep, stop thinkin'.

Let someone else take care a things for awhile.

That blank look reminds me of how she used to be. When we first met.

The way she looked at things was so emotionless. Not concerned, not angry, not determined, not… optimistic.

It was nothing like the way she looks now.

I'm not used to it anymore. Makes me feel weird. It looks outta place. Wrong.

That's not how she's supposed to look.

She's supposed to have that — that chill subtle curiosity. Not this blank, tired, just goin' on cause she's gotta thing.

I looked down at the possum in front a me, and shifted a little to get my knife, so I can start skinnin' it.

If she ain't goin' to sleep already, I'm at least gon' make 'er eat somethin'.

I looked up, feeling eyes on me and caught Glenn's gaze for a moment. He looked at Eve then back at me and raised his eyebrows a little.

I glanced at Eve before barely shaking my head, no. She ain't ok.

* * *

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	116. Chapter 112

**Eve's POV**

Oh Merlin's gourd. Everything aches.

I stared at the slow blueing sky above me before sitting up; well, trying to. Sluggish and bleary — exhausted — I planted my elbows in the leaves and yawned as I pushed myself up, slow and painful.

' _What time is it?_ '

I turned to take a peek at Dale's watch but stopped before my eyes could fall on the timepiece around my wrist.

My opposite hand inched towards my wrist and the cold surface almost made me flinch as I slowly covered it; holding it where it is.

' _...I don't need to know._ '

It's butttcrack early. That's what time it is.

I wound the watch without looking at it, ignoring the hands on the face and went straight to scraping the sleep gunk from my eyes.

A shiver ran up my spine at the cold contact of my icy fingers and I shimmied my jacket tighter around myself.

If only I had a sweatshirt right about now. Leather isn't exactly the warmest thing in the world, even if it braces against wind nicely.

I sorely got to my feet, wincing as I slow-stretched now tingling muscles.

The leaves crunched next to me as Daryl rolled onto his side and made a face. He groggily reached down and pulled a stick out from under his side.

I thought I was the only groggy riser here.

Speaking of which, why the shit-biscuit am I awake before the sun? I'm not even supposed to be on watch next and no one woke me up for the umteenth time.

A groan brought my attention to the side and I watched Daryl come to a grumpy state of awareness instead of rolling over and going back to sleep like I honestly expected, but maybe that's more my thing than his.

He sat up scowling at the world (at least that assumption of mine is accurate). His eyes settled on me, finally noticing he isn't the first awake but for some reason, it looks like his scowl just deepened.

What, am I not allowed to be awake? That'd be a dream come true. No pun intended.

I waved — cutting the gesture short by covering my mouth from another yawn and unintentionally giving myself an eyeful of morning breath.

Oof, when was the last time I brushed my teeth?

I cringed and sighed, staring at the remains of the fire for a good long minute; still tired enough to barely notice Daryl not moving even though he's awake.

It finally occurred to me to check my gun's clip when I pulled my jacket tighter and the gun shifted.

I checked my holster — which I was not supposed to wear to sleep but apparently I did anyway — and the clip sliding must've alerted those on watch (Maggie & Rick) to my 'booting up' status.

"You're awake?"

I glanced over, blinking sleepily at Maggie before going back at my clip. Completely forgetting to respond.

2 bullets left.

"Don' think she is." Daryl snorted quietly next to me, dragging his crossbow into his lap.

When did he sit up?

I looked at him and made a point of snapping my clip when I slid it back in and tucked it back into my waistband. It would be nice if I had a holster for this damn thing; preferably an under shoulder one, or one that won't get in the way of my knives.

Even if I don't use guns as often as the others — it's kinda my last resort thing — it'd still be nice to be able to be able to quick draw and not have that worry in the back of my mind that it's gonna fall from my waistband.

It's a good thing I picked up that extra gun in the bar so we're not one gun short with Randall around.

The kid's a good shot. Color me impressed.

Lot a good it did us though. No matter how many good shots we've got here, it still wasn't enough against all of those bodies.

We're practically a whole team of sharpshooters and not even we could put even a dent into that herd.

The existence of that herd itself is worrying. If there's one, it's next to impossible there won't be more. How many of them could be out there? How big can they get?

Where could all those bodies have come from?

I picked up a stick from the fire pit and raised it, specifically so Rick could see, before heading out of the stone enclosure.

"Don't go far" he nodded. He's still off but I don't expect him to be okay any time soon.

He'll wrestle with it for awhile, but eventually… I believe he'll come back. He won't ever be the same, no one ever is. But he won't carry it like poison, slowly eating him from the inside out. Fraying him at the edges until there's nothing left.

I went just outside the henge for a nice lookin' pile of sticks, careful not to get out of sight.

Don't think I didn't notice Daryl move to the edge of the stones as soon as I started out.

It's hard to ignore his eyes on me right now.

I glanced around before taking longer than I'd like to crouch and pick up a decent little pile. Grazing my fingers across the grass while I'm at it.

The grass is too damp for kindling, even though it's dead or dying. I suppose I could use leaves. They're crispy enough they might light well; some of them at least.

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my wrist, taking a sleepy deep breath through my nose. I'm still tired but it's so cold out here there's no way I'd ever be able to go back to sleep without starting that fire again.

I'm worried.

About the trauma Rick's going through. Having to kill his best friend, who tried to murder him in cold blood. There's no way that isn't gonna mess his head up.

They were fighting long before that but even if he doesn't want to admit it, she can see it on his face. The betrayal, the exhaustion. The pain.

It's hard enough when someone you trust betrays you without bringing death and murder into it.

Loss is one of the hardest things to cope with and everybody copes differently but no matter who you are or what your situation with them might have been, you can't escape the toll it'll bring.

He won't ever be the same after this.

And last night…

I blew a sigh out of my mouth, straightening my back to look at my surroundings, and to take an observing glance at Rick.

I need to talk to him.

God why do I need to talk again?

One more. Come on Evelyn, one more.

One more talk and then I can be done for awhile. Let everyone else sort out their own petty squabbles.


	117. Chapter 113

After collecting everything needed for restarting the fire, I straightened to make my way back to the henge and turned to find Daryl walking towards me.

"Hey."

I quirked my eyebrow but nodded back. ' _Why'd he come out? It's not like I need help getting firewood. I'm already finished._ '

The leaves crunched under his boots like fistfuls of corn kernels thrown against a metal sheet, little snaps of twigs and other forest-floor debris here and there until he came to a stop, facing me more directly than usual. "I wanna talk to ya for a sec."

Uh oh. Why do I feel like I'm about to be scolded?

Everything I've done in the last 48 hours started going through a fine tooth comb in my mind. What could I have possibly done to warrant a 'talk'?

"Don't wander off no more." Daryl glanced around, checking our surroundings the same way I do.

...Ok, that's not what I expected.

I stared at him in question. Mostly confused about where this is coming from all of a sudden. All I did was come outside to grab fire stuff. The camp is literally like a stone's throw from us.

"I mean it." he shifted, not looking at me and I honestly can't tell if it's because he's nervous, embarrassed, or if this really just isn't as serious a conversation as I thought — as he's making it sound.

My eyes wandered over his face. The dirt and sweat clinging to his skin in the same manner as most of us at this point, but a little thicker because he's got something against water. Sometimes I think he actually does it to protect his skin from bugs and sunburn and the like. But other times…

Then again, this is Daryl. There might be a perfectly good reason — like one of those many old hunter's tricks that he just seems to dispense when needed — or there might be no reason at all and he just didn't think about it. Which I find hard to believe because this crap is itchy after a while.

On cue my cheek started itching but my hands are full so I'll have to settle for rubbing it against my shoulder and trying to catch my jacket zipper at a good angle.

"I can't keep lookin' for ya all the time, going after ya. It's better if ya just stay where I can see ya."

' _Hmph, no worries. I'm not goin' anywhere by myself anymore._ ' My hand travelled from where it's tucked up under my bundle of stuff, just to hover over my ribs. Even the idea of touching it is making my hand shake. The way it does with anticipated pain.

I nodded and watched him give a firm one in return, before motioning at me to hand over the sticks & kindling.

I pulled them back into me like I'm protecting my child and he deadpanned at me.

Seconds ticked by as the two of us had a stare off until Daryl raised an eyebrow and snapped his fingers.

I sighed, making absolutely positive he heard it.

' _Fine._ '

I handed the bundle over and let him carry it as we walked back to the camp to start a fire.

I don't know when we're gonna get moving today, but we have some serious things to sort out before we can go anywhere, and the fact it's cold enough to still _need_ a fire when the sun is up already is a serious warning sign.

We gotta find a place to stay for the winter. Preferably more than one, and we gotta do it fast or we're not gonna make it without casualties.

At the very least, that baby in Lori's belly will be consumed by her body for nutrition or energy, or just plain miscarried because she doesn't have the resources to grow a child.

And worse case scenario… it takes her with it.

Carl stirred just as the two of us reentered the henge. Randall sitting up already, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he yawned. His breath misting in front of him.

Another sign we don't have anymore time to dilly dally.

We don't have anymore food, barely any water, but we've got light again and we've all gotten some sleep so now it's time to crack down and get our bases covered again.

Starting with getting those cars moving and finding the nearest house or gas station or town if we're lucky and getting as much of our supplies back as we can.

I stood next to Daryl as he crouched beside the fire pit, not really wanting to go through the effort of having to stand back up again at the moment.

I stepped around him, lightly letting my finger graze the backside of his shoulder so he knows I'm walking right behind him. It would suck if he leaned back right now cause I'm 90% sure a strong breeze would push me over at the moment.

I grabbed the edges of probably the only plastic bin we've got, surrounded by people's backpacks which is all we managed to grab getting out and popped the foggy white plastic open as quietly as could. The more sleep everyone gets right now the better, they can stave off hunger for longer, they'll be less cranky, and honestly we won't have to start talking about stuff yet.

I gave in to sitting on my knees, using the bin to lower myself down easier and started digging through the bucket, making a mental checklist of what we've got while Daryl started the fire and the temperature slowly started to get just a little warmer.

The crackles and occasional popping calmed my nerves; filling the silence that would only have me on alert right now. Even though we've got people on watch, I would be compelled to listen if there wasn't some kind of white noise.

I pride myself on being able to be calm and think clearly but I'm gonna be honest, ...we're in serious trouble.

No food, barely any water — only two _containers_ for it either, nothing to boil it in except a single metal cup. A box of matches with exactly 4 matches. A 3rd of a bottle of aspirin (thank god), minus two pills as I handed one to Randall and popped the other in my mouth; seeing as we're the only two injured that I'm aware of.

Some jackets, one sleeping bag — which Lori, Carol, and Carl are laying on right now as an improvised bed.

An emergency blanket — a _torn_ emergency blanket. A shoelace(?), 3 small flashlights, one pair of night vision goggles, no real warm clothes other than the ones on our backs. And one blanket; which is currently laying over Hershel. Thankfully Carl seems to be piled under jackets and wrapped in his mother's arms, so he's fine and the fire should be warming everyone up now, seeing as how everyone is within reach.

"Mornin'" I turned to look at Randall as he shuffled over next to me. "What are you doin?"

Gardening.

What does it look like I'm doing?

I turned my eyes back to the bucket, and Daryl's shoulder bumped the back side of mine as he turned to look at what I'm doing.

"She's seein' what we gotta work with."

Actually, nevermind what I'm doing. What are _you_ doing? Sharpening your knife — are you gonna go hunting? Please tell me we're gonna go bag something to roast.

Daryl must've caught my questioning eyes cause he sighed. "No chance I can make ya stay 'ere, is there?"

I quickly shook my head and grinned at his exasperated groan before he sighed and stood up, offering me a hand.

I clapped mine with his and let him help me more than usual. Use those biceps Dixon, they can't just be for show.

"Where you guys goin?" I looked back at Randall who looks and sounds just a little panicky.

"Huntin'. And no, you ain't comin' with us." Daryl fixed his crossbow in his hands. "Bad enough I gotta drag her 'round with me out there."

Hey, at least I can walk.

"I wasn't gonna." Randall muttered and shrunk a little when Daryl looked at him.

I couldn't help it. I snorted and they both looked at me while me and my ninjaness pretended it wasn't me.

I looked up at the sky, using my hand to shield from the rising sun. I don't need to worry about how much light we've got this early in the morning but temperature might be another deal. My fingers are already pretty cold and we haven't even left yet.

At the bottom of my vision I saw Daryl roll his eyes and jerk his head. "Come on, Sunshine."

"Ey," Daryl stopped, turning back and pointed at the bottles. "Fill those up over there while we're gone." He flicked his hand towards the stream we used to clean up yesterday before starting out again.

I pulled my knives as we walked out of the henge and Daryl barely slowed his pace as he looked up at Rick on the wall, who's already looking down on us like a parent catching their kids sneaking out.

"We're goin' ta find some food. Should be back in an hour or so." Daryl cut him off before he could even open his mouth, prepping his crossbow at the same time.

Geez, someone must've slept well. He is on top of things today. Good, we're gonna need it.

Rick nodded, glancing around. "Don't go too far."

"Don' leave." Daryl countered as he motioned to me and started heading towards the tree line on the far right side; back the way we came with the cars and opposite to the direction I slayed last night's bedtime snack.

* * *

I like hunting with Daryl.

It's simple.

All I have to do really is watch his back and keep an awareness of our surroundings so he doesn't have to while he tracks.

Today though, it's not as easy as it used to be.

The ground is crisp and crunchy with leaves and fallen twigs. It's freezing and our breath creates a whole lot of extra movement around us, making us even easier to see through the sheer lack of living foliage to help hide us.

The trees are still dense though, dense enough that we could still get lost if we're not careful.

Which is why I'm making little marks as we go to follow back, like Hansel and Gretel, just in case.

A groove in a tree here, a little stack of stones there. A cleared pile of leaves and a clear footprint in the direction we're going so we just have to follow the heel back, and if anyone else — however unlikely — should happen upon the print, it'll lead them in the opposite direction of camp. Granted it'll bring them straight towards us but better us than the rest of the group.

We haven't caught much. Just a couple of squirrels. But to feed the whole group, we're gonna need a lot more just a couple. We've got what, over a dozen mouths to feed now?

It'd be awesome if we could find a deer, but somehow I doubt we'll be so lucky. Even a couple raccoons or something would be better than just some measly squirrels.

And Daryl knows it too.

Our hour is almost up but we can't go back with just this. This will _barely_ feed 3 or 4 people.

I've seen a couple of wild berries here and there but without knowing for certain if they're poisonous or not, we can't risk it. I would if we were starving but we're not there yet. And I'm not poisoning Carl, or Beth, or Lori, or Hershel, or Glenn, or _anyone_ if I can at all help it.

"Don't worry. We'll find enough."

I looked at Daryl, not even aware he'd been looking at me, but he's already returned to the tracks we've been following for a few minutes now.

"It ain't gonna be no full course meal, but it'll be better than nothin'." He muttered in a low tone, trying to keep our presence as undetectable as possible.

I really shouldn't be surprised by his ability to detect my thoughts like they're in comic book bubbles above my head but it still gets me, every time.


	118. Chapter 114

The sleek black bolt pierced the birds eye and it dropped like a rock from the branch it had perched on above us.

I stuck my hands out without even thinking and the bird literally fell right into them. Almost impaling itself on my dagger.

The bolt's tail almost whacked me in the side of the face but at least I caught it.

I smiled at Daryl, unable to hide the elation coursing through me at the idea of not having to eat squirrel — or _just_ squirrel at the very least.

"6, 7... That makes 6 squirrels and 3 birds. That should be good enough for now. We better head back 'fore the other have a panic attack." Daryl held out the other birds in his hand as I pulled his bolt out of this one's eye-socket with a gross ' _slick_ ' and traded him.

He almost grabbed my hand instead of the bolt which brought the red on my fingers to my attention.

Daryl scoffed and I looked up at him. "What's that face for? Not like you never had blood on yer hands before."

I stuck my tongue out at him and he almost snorted, rolling his eyes. "Come on"

I put both birds feet into my left hand so they'll be easier to carry and fell into — crunchy — step beside Daryl.

It took us about 20 minutes of comfortable silence and bumping each other's shoulders every now and then until we made it back out of the trees and trudged to the henge to get this stuff cleaned up and ready to make into something edible.

Just in time too, I'm about ready to eat one of these things raw.

Yes, even the _squirrel._

I shivered at just the thought of this actually sounding like a good, _appetizing_ idea.

Daryl looked at me. "You cold or somethin?"

I dismissed it with a head shake and stowed my knife now that we're back at camp.

Glenn was sitting up when we walked back through the entryway, looking like he didn't _just_ wake up, but has probably only been awake for 10 minutes, tops.

It looks like everyone's awake too.

Good. That means he and I can make a run for some gas. Unlike everyone else here, we've done duo runs just the two of us so many times it should be a cake walk for us to go get something to get our asses out of here.

We gotta find somewhere to hole up fast. We can't stay out here another night.

I whistled at Glenn and as soon as he looked at me, I tapped my knives; our signal for 'grab your gear we're heading out'. I haven't used this signal in a long time. Not since the quarry.

His eyebrows furrowed at me. "Now? Where? What for?"

"Gas and scout." I answered simply.

" _Hell nah._ " I turned, almost flinching at the sudden _growl_ from Daryl.

"Not with those bruises you aren't." Glenn motioned at my gut and I glanced as he did.

Since when did these two start teaming up?

Daryl motioned at Glenn and Ace stood up, grabbing his gear as Daryl turned back to me. "You ain't goin' nowhere, Sunshine."

"We'll take ma brother's bike, but yer sittin' yer ass down." He pointed at the spot next to Carl on the open sleeping bag, which is now next to the fire like a little sitting area.

Before I could argue, they were heading out and everyone else was giving me pointed looks to do as the man said. A few look like they're gonna whoop my ass if I don't but I just stood there, dumbfounded and blinking as _both_ of my partners are walking away without me.

I feel cheated. Even a little left out.

Oh that's a weird feeling. Haven't felt like that in awhile.

"Eve, could you help Randall boil the water?" Lori asked and I looked towards the kid by the fire.

Yeah… sure.

I heard the engine and watched Daryl & Glenn slowly take off along the road, Rick walking back. I didn't even see him go over there with them.

* * *

I sat on top of the wall with the rifle in my hands, watching the road more than the treeline. My leg bouncing like I'm really trying not to scratch an itch.

It's almost noon now. They should've been back an hour ago.

I glanced over to the other wall, where T-Dog's standing. Maggie's organizing our supplies down there; she's like the 3rd person aside from me to do that now.

Carol and Lori are using what Daryl & I caught this morning to make at least _something_ for everyone.

Hershel suggested stew. There'll be enough for everyone and it'll fill our stomachs, even though there's not much to work with. It won't be the tastiest thing ever, bland as water chestnuts but hey, at least it's better than raw squirrel.

Hershel's been talking to Rick quietly outside the henge for about 10 minutes now. Not far from where Beth & Randall are picking up more firewood.

You know, that kid continues to surprise me. Turns out, he knows a thing or two about a few edible plants thanks to some high school project he did a few years ago, and he found some a little while ago, while they've been collecting.

By some I mean like less than a handful but that means the stew won't be _as_ tasteless as it was going to be. And hopefully these little leaves have some kind herbal medicine type of mojo but I think that might be asking a little much. Last I checked, mother nature wasn't in that forgiving of a mood. In fact, I'd say she's rather pissed at us at the moment, so we'll be lucky if Randall's not mistaken and they're not poisonous.

Damn, I get a lot edgier when I'm tired and in pain.

How long is it gonna take for these damn bruises to heal?

Normal bruises take about 5 days but something tells me I'm gonna be in for a lot longer.

I perked up as I heard the slightest rumble and my eyes fixed on the gray dusty road.

Seconds ticked by like years until I saw the beautiful glimmer of sunlight off steel and I smiled.

I pursed my lips and with a short whistle and pointed finger, I alerted the others that the boys are back.

I climbed down off the wall, losing my strength halfway down after lowering myself but good thing my legs aren't beat up or they wouldn't have been able to absorb the shock.

Maggie and Rick came with me as I hiked up to the road edge, watching Daryl put down the kickstand for his motorcycle while Glenn climbed off with a gas can.

They've definitely got some new stains and that blood splatter is fresh but they don't look hurt.

I gave them both a once over and Daryl waved me off. "We found a place to hole up for tonight."

"How far?" Rick asked.

"Not far. Maybe 3 miles." Glenn answered, wiping his nose on the back of his wrist before walking with Maggie to the other cars.

"Oh, and these." Daryl pulled a couple cans out of his backpack.

Good, we could always use food. And when it's gone, the cans themselves will be useful as well.


End file.
